


We're Gonna Get There

by JunkerRoo



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Major Character Injury, Panic Attacks, Possible Slow burn, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-07-03 09:57:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15816576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JunkerRoo/pseuds/JunkerRoo
Summary: MacCready didn't really know what he had gotten himself into when he signed up with Jamison Clark, the man kept to himself for the most part, but if MacCready knew one thing, it was that this man was a walking rad-storm waiting to happen. He could feel it in the air every time he walked beside Clark, the man had a purpose, what he was after he wasn't sure but if it was important to Clark, he'd do his best to see it till the end.





	1. Gearing Up

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ಠ_ಠ)_/¯
> 
> Un'Beta'd, all mistakes are my own.

“Yo, over here.”  
  
MacCready looked to over to his left at the harsh whisper, his boss, was crouched behind a pile of sandbags hiding from the turrets that he could hear chugging along. The humming of their targeting systems looking for them again after they had just made a quick dash to get to cover before they could lock on. 

“You got it.” He grumbled as he waited for a second longer for the turret to turn away from his position. How had he gone from sitting in the VIP lounge at the Third Rail to dodging turrets at some old Fort?

  


His current employer had walked into the VIP lounge like he owned it, interrupting his conversation with Winlock and Barnes and asked if he was looking for work. The look of absolute rage on the Gunner’s faces as he told him he was available for hire was well worth it back then. This man was at a first glace, not someone you would want to run into out on the Commonwealth. He wore worn down road leathers with various patches and mismatched thread stitching together parts of his outfit that had clearly torn and had been stitched back together with whatever was available. A black bandana that flashed a wicked skeletal grin tied around the lower half of his face and dark lensed road goggles covered his eyes. The metal armour he wore on top of it all was painted in various blacks, dark grays and browns, providing him with an odd dark camouflage MacCready thought. On his hip he carried one of the most menacing looking swatters MacCready had ever seen, the thing was covered in saw blades and looked like it had its own fuel boosters, like you see on old power armour, and like the rest of his attire the thing was painted black but had flecks of red on it.  


…Or was that just what was left of the last person he used it on…  


“There a problem here?” his voice was deep and MacCready could already tell this was someone who had held authority in their life.  


Barnes and Winlock exchanged looks as if contemplating if picking a fight was worth it. The man as if reading their minds only stood his ground as his hand went down to the handle of the swatter on his hip. It seemed enough to deter the two Gunners.  


“Nah, let’s get the fuck out of here Barnes.” Winlock nodded his head towards the door motioning to the other man to follow him, not before turning and giving MacCready a twisted sneer. “See ya around MacCready."  


The way his eyes glinted and how he flashed his teeth made MacCready’s skin crawl and he had to steal himself from visibly cringing.  


Once the two Gunners where gone the man with the swatter turned back to him. “So… you the merc for hire I’ve been hearing about?”  


“Yeah, that'd be me.”  


“Good. What’s your shooting preference and the going rate?”  


“Names MacCready, best sniper you’ll find here in the Commonwealth, and going rate is 250 caps, up front, and there’s no room for bargaining.”  


He couldn’t see the man’s eyes but he knew he was staring at him, could feel his gaze on him. He didn’t say anything for a long moment and MacCready was starting to get nervous. He had been holed up in the Third Rail for almost a month now and was starting to run out his welcome with Whitechapel Charlie there was also the small problem of him having to have to use his remaining caps more sparingly. He was starting to get nervous that maybe he had asked for too much, but his pride wouldn’t allow him to go back and offer his service for lower.  


“Okay.” The rough voice snapped him out of his train of thought, and he blinked at the man. “250 caps, you got yourself a deal. And if you have the skill to back up those words then there will be more caps to come your way.”  


“Sounds like a deal to me. You point and I’ll follow, uh Boss.”  


“Name’s Clark, Jamison Clark.” He held up his hand and MacCready shook his hand, and their contract had started there.  


That encounter in the VIP room had been a few weeks back now. He was informed that they would be storming Fort Hagen but they had to stock up on supply’s first. He wasn’t sure what Clark’s obsession was with going there but it clearly was important to the man. Clark had been running missions for the Minutemen, setting up settlements and collecting caps where he could. He split the loot with MacCready, giving him a small portion of the caps every time, saying the ammo and any medical supplies were more valuable to him than the money was.  


Clark had been gearing up for something big though, it was like he was getting ready to fight a war, and MacCready didn’t realize just how serious this Fort Hagen thing was until they stopped at Sanctuary Hills, a couple of days ago.  


The place was like nothing MacCready had ever seen before, it used to be some little community pre-war, but a few of the houses still stood and new houses had been built on the foundations of the old homes. It was impressively fortified, there were turrets and guard posts along the perimeter of the town, and at the center, a small collection of stores and shops. The place was… well beautiful, especially for something in the Commonwealth.  


“Hey Boss, uh, we got a job lined up here?” MacCready asked, trying to get any sort of information he could out of Clark. Clark liked to keep things to himself, as far as MacCready knew he was just some ex-raider or maybe another mercenary like himself. 

“Nah, we're here to stock up, we're ready to hit Fort Hagen, I just need to pick up my other gear. My place is just up ahead.”  


“Wait, you live here?” MacCready was starting to doubt his ex-raider theory.  


“Yeah, for a, uh, while now I guess you could say.”  


“I didn’t know places like this even existed outside of the major cities…” MacCready said more to himself than his employer.  


“There were places like this everywhere before.” Clark replied, sounding like he was recalling on some old memory.  


“What was that?” MacCready was curious now, skipping a step so he could walk beside Clark.  


“Uh, nothing, never mind.” He cleared his throat and nodded his head in the direction they were walking. “That one’s mine, come in, we’ll restock and then tomorrow we’ll head out at first light.”  


MacCready looked at the old house, it had walls that had been rebuilt, but from what he could tell most of the original house was still standing. There was a half-built power armour sitting in the driveway beside what looked like a workshop, probably where Clark worked on his guns and armour.  


When he first stepped inside the house it was clean and organized, a small cabinet stocked with purified water and other non-perishable foods against the back wall. There was a wood stove and a small table with 3 chairs around it. In the connecting living room one of the cleanest looking couches MacCready had ever seen sat against the wall, above it, a taxidermy radstag was mounted on the wall, a Minutemen hat hung from the antlers of one of the heads, giving MacCready a chuckle.  


“Preston gave me that. Didn’t really feel right wearing it.” Clark said from the hallway running a hand through his hair. “There’s a washroom here, and my rooms at the end of the hall on the left.” He turned and continued down the hallway opening the door to his room. “I have a few boxes of ammo for that sniper rifle of yours, you’re more than welcome to them. Probably gonna need ‘em.” he slipped into the room with a wave of his hand to MacCready motioning for him to follow after him.  


MacCready walked down the wall noticing another room to the right, a door closing off the room from view. He stopped and eyed the door for a moment, before following Clark into his room, only stopping in the doorway as he took in what could only be described as a small armoury. The whole left wall was covered in gun racks, and not a single spot empty. There was another shelf with various blue plastic boxes all labeled with different ammo types. He watched as Clark reached up and pulled down the one labeled .308, taking out a few boxes giving them each a quick shake before tossing them to MacCready.  


“… uh, Thanks, Boss.” MacCready squirrelled them away into one of the pockets on his duster, opening one of the boxes and slotting some of the rounds into any empty slots on his thigh holster, as he did he decided to try and figure out what exactly he was getting himself into, and he had been wanting to know where he stood with Clark for the last few days.  


“So, I know I’m just a hired gun, but we’ve been travelling together for a while now, and I know I came off as a bit of an as-uh, I mean, I wasn’t exactly friendly, but it’s been nice hitting the open road with someone, Goodneighbour was starting to wear out its welcome.”  


Clark was sorting through rounds of what looked like 10mm ammo, MacCready noted, it was one of the few guns he actually carried on him. “What makes you say that?” He commented on, not looking up from his work but MacCready could tell he was looking at him through his road goggles now.  


“Goodneighbour was a good place for work, but not the best place to hang your hat so to speak.” MacCready could feel he had Clark’s attention now, he shifted in place a bit feeling like a kid again. “Let’s put it this way, can’t get much sleep with one eye open. I would have been run out of town the moment I tried to set up shop in Diamond City, and you know just how dangerous it is to travel the Commonwealth along. That’s just asking for trouble, especially if you’re hard up for caps like I was before we started this little arrangement.”  


“Cap’s aren’t everything ‘Cready.”  


“Look I know it doesn’t make sense, but right now I need every cap I can get. I-I don’t usually go around sharing stuff like this but you’ve been pretty straight with me, and you’ve already given me more than what our original deal was made on, you paid me the 250 caps I asked for, but ya also share a lot of the loot, and that’s more than anyone I’ve worked for in the past has done for me.” MacCready tipped his hat over his eyes, feeling a little self-conscience that he was bearing himself out like this for Clark to see. “Truth is... I haven’t been able to really rely on anyone since I was a kid. Everyone I’ve met has either tried to rip me off or, well, plant a knife in my back. But you, you’re different. We seem to see eye-to-eye on almost everything. And ya can tell me to fu-screw off if I’m just grabbing at air here, but I get the funny feeling you actually kinda care about what happens to me.”  


There was silence for a few heartbeats, and if he was honest with himself MacCready could feel himself sweating and his heart rate pick up at the thought of Clark kicking him to the curb after that.  


“MacCready.”  


MacCready looked up and flinched when he realized how close Clark had moved to him, and he belittled himself mentally for not noticing him move in the first place.  


“When I hired you, you asked me how you knew I wouldn’t put a bullet in your back.”  


“Uh, ya, like I said not the friendliest.”  


“Well to answer your question, I try to avoid shooting my friends.” He said, and although MacCready couldn’t see it due to the bandana still being in place, he could tell Clark was smirking at him as he put a hand on his shoulder, gave it a squeeze and moved past him into the hallway. “Now come on, let’s get something to eat. I need to hit up the clinic here for med supplies, then we can crash for the night. You coming Mac?”  


MacCready just blinked. Clark called him his friend. “Y-ya Boss, coming!” he croaked as he shoved the last of the .308 rounds into his pockets and scurried out of the room. If his shoulder was warm from where Clark had squeezed it. He tried to pay it no mind, what he did mind though was the warm tingling feeling in his chest.  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I wrote this at 2 am.  
> I've been wanting to write Mac for ages and found I had some time so welp, here it is.  
> I do have plans to finish this, I just hope I can actually work out the words the way I want them.


	2. The Clinic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the first chapter seemed well received enough??  
> Uh, yeah no Beta still so all mistakes are my own dumb doing.

Clark was a decent enough cook, he made most of the meals while they were out travelling the Commonwealth, the deal between the two men was Clark cooked, MacCready took first watch, and cleaned up. That night while staying in Sanctuary Clark cooked up some radstag stew for the both of them in the small kitchen of his house. He placed a bowl for MacCready at the table and told him to dig in as he took his own bowl and left to head back to his room.  


MacCready never really understood the need to eat alone but never pushed. Clark liked his privacy and would tell him things on a need to know basis. It still bothered him not knowing what they were walking into at Fort Hagen, but with Clark’s admittance of friendship, he was hoping the guy would at least talk to him about. He was picking at the last few bits of carrot and corn left at the bottom of his bowl when Clark emerged later, empty bowl in hand.  


“Really MacCready, you’re not going to finish off those veggies?” He asked as he placed his dishes into the built-in sink on the countertop.  


“Wha-oh yeah, sorry spaced out for a bit there.” He flustered as he scooped up the last few mouthfuls and followed Clark’s example putting his empty bowl in the sink. 

“I’m heading over to the Clinic, it’s like Sanctuary’s own little hospital. We’ll pick up a few bandages, stimpak’s, and see what else Murphy has in stock for us. Wanna come with?”  


“Sure Boss, even in a quiet place like this, someone still needs to watch your back, that was the deal right?” He said slinging his sniper rifle over his shoulder and following Clark out of the house.  


They walked further into the little town until they came across a two-story house, one of the ones clearly built after the bombs dropped. In bright red neon signs, like the ones at Goodneighbour, the word “Clinic” was spelled above the doorway.  


“Just a fair warning,” Clark said. “Murphy is the closest thing we have to an actual doctor around here, he’s a nice enough guy but he can be a bit of a handful sometimes, so try to play nice yeah?” he said with a chuckle, as he opened the door to the clinic. MacCready saw a section of what looked like small rooms, along the left some he could hear a few quite coughs but no one stirred. There was a large table against the back of the clinic with a couple couches and a few armchairs, a type a waiting room perhaps? And then a staircase leading up to the second floor.  


MacCready was about to ask him what he meant about ‘Murphy” when he was interrupted by someone giving out a loud bark of a laugh as they came blazing down the stairs.  


“Jamison, ya bloody arsehole, good ‘ta see ya in one piece and still kickin’ away!” A bear of a man with red hair, and a bushy beard to match with streaks of grey throughout both showing he was starting to get on in his years, came striding towards the two, and before MacCready knew what was happening Clark was being pulled into a bear hug by the large man. “Good ‘ta see ya, ya numpty. Been a while since we seen ‘dat ugly mug a yours around these parts aye?” Murphy, MacCready could only assume, gave Clark a few good pats on the back while still holding onto his Boss and it was then that MacCready noticed Clark’s feet were no longer touching the ground, and that Murphy was a good head taller than his Boss. 

“Nice to see you again too Murph.” Clark laughed, a real laugh and MacCready instantly bristled. He’d heard Clark give a few chuffs and chuckles, heard him scoff at his lame attempt at jokes plenty of times but this was the first time he had heard him give a genuine laugh. Who was this man to Clark, and why hadn’t he been able to get Clark to laugh like that. “Murphy, I’ve been fine, I’ve been busy getting thing's in motion, but I needed to come back here to gear up. I have someone I’d like you to meet.” He said as Murphy put him down. “The man currently glaring daggers this way is my new travelling friend, MacCready.”  


Glaring? He wasn’t glaring. He was just… glaring. He was glaring. His nose scrunched up as he rolled his eyes at Clark’s words trying to play off the whole glaring thing. “MacCready, nice to meet ya.” He said with a curt nod. 

“Ah so I have this lad to thank for keeping an eye on ya for me.”  


“Someone has to keep an eye on him, doesn’t always have the best self-preservation skills,” MacCready grumbled.  


Murphy gave out another bark of a laugh grabbing MacCready by the shoulder and giving him a shake. “That he does! That he does! Jamie sure has come a long from when I first met him that he has, eyes as wide as a radstag fawnlin’ he was, rolled right into Diamond City on wobbly legs.”  


“Jamie?” MacCready mouthed at Clark an eyebrow raised and a smirk he couldn’t help but keep off his face.  


Clark caught the look and MacCready could tell he was frowning at him. His body language almost saying. “Don’t you dare…”  


“Anyway, boyo’s ya didn’t come all’s this way to catch up with Ol’ Murphy, come on upstairs and let’s see what I can get for ya.” He took off back up the stairs waving the two men to follow. “You’re in luck I’d say, dat Garvey boy came in just last week with a bunch a supplies from da Castle, came in a decent stockpile o’goods. I’ve been cookin up stimpak’s for da last few days got at least half a dozen put together now.” He said as they reached the top of the stairs.  


The upper part of the house looked almost like something out of one of the old sci-fi comic MacCready, there was a large counter that ran almost the length of the far wall, test tubes, flasks, and IV bags and various other medical supplies littered the countertops. A terminal sat on the edge of the counter next to a couple of floodlights that had been strung from the ceiling over a stretcher as a surgical table. Against the other wall, there were sectioned off rooms, two small and one larger, each set up with a bed, makeshift IV stands and a medical carts rolled into each room. MacCready was guessing this is where the real injured or sick spent their time. While it was all very mismatch, it defiantly did the job and MacCready found himself impressed. Not even the two docs in Diamond City had a set up like this, just some rinky-dink corner setup. 

“Stimpak’s would be great if you could spare a few Murphy. We’re also going to need bandages, med-x, and some rad-away if you have it.” Clark said sitting down in the chair by the terminal, leaving MacCready to lean over by the balcony, he eyed a few magazines.  


“Aye, I got all that, I’ll get ya right fitted with a medkit, I’ll put it together for ya Jamie.” And with the large man busied himself with gathering up bandages and other things he deemed they would find useful. “Where ya headed too exactly, ya said ya gearin’ up… don’t suppose ya found ‘em then.” The mirth that had been in his voice before disappeared and he started to roll up some bandages.  


Well, that grabbed MacCready’s attention, he reached down and started picking through the pile of old medical magazines. He kept his eyes on the page he had opened the magazine too, pretending to be reading the article.  


“We’re going to Fort Hagen Murphy. I found that fucking son of a bitch.” Clark all but growled at the end.  


So they were tracking someone down? Someone from Clark’s past if he was reading him correctly from under the brim of his hat.  


“Just be careful out there laddie, it’s dangerous out near them ol’ pre-war bases,” Murphy whispered and nodded toward MacCready’s corner. Jamison may have forgotten he was there but Murphy sure hadn’t, and Murphy wasn’t so sure if this would be a conversation Jamison would want to be overheard.  


Clark’s head twitched ever so slightly in his direction, he was probably trying to see if MacCready was paying attention. MacCready found himself holding his breath as he waited to see if there was more to this conversation. He was rewarded for his patience when he heard Clark whisper “I need to do this, Murphy. He’s still out there.”  


“Aye, I know lad, I know there’s no changin’ ya mind. Ol’ Murph just worries is all.” He had finished packing the small first-aid-kit and handed it to Clark, a hand on his shoulder. “All’s I ask is ya be careful.”  
There was a moment of silence as the two men shared a look, before Clark chuckled, probably trying to deflect the conversation. 

“That’s why I hired ‘Cready here.” He said as he got up from the chair, tucking the first aid kit under his arm. “Best shot in the Commonwealth apparently.”  


MacCready looked up, an irritated look on his face. “What do you mean ‘apparently’? Let’s see you peg a Gunner between the eyes at over 900 yards.”  


Clark just looked at him, saying nothing.  


“In the dark.”  


“…”  


“While it’s raining!” MacCready was getting flustered now, he slapped shut the magazine he had in his hands, and threw it back down at the table.  


Clark laughed, he was laughing at MacCready. “Aw, come on now ‘Cready, I’m only teasing, I’ve seen you make that exact shot and it was damn impressive.”  


MacCready’s brain temporarily short-circuited from that sound, making the tips of his ears burn a little. He made Clark laugh! But the praise that followed that laugh completely blind-sided him, and he could feel the heat from his ears traveling across his face.  


MacCready sputtered, “Pft, y-ya well, f-pis- ugh! Screw-off!” He shoved his hat further down to cover his face, this time earning a loud laugh from Murphy.  


“Well we have a few other stops to make before he head in for the night, we leave first thing in the morning, so I’ll see ya around Murphy. Come on ‘Cready, let’s go.”  


“Right behind ya Boss.” MacCready grumbled from under his hat, as he pushed away from the wall he had been leaning against.  


“Hold on there Mackie,” rumbled Murphy and MacCready felt a hand grip his shoulder stopping him, he turned and looked at Murphy. “Where da two of you’s are headed, it’s dangerous. I know this one here hired ya, but you make sure he stays safe you hear me? I want ‘em coming back in one piece, the people livin’ here need him. He’s important ta all of us.”  


The look of sincerity in the older man’s eyes took MacCready back a second, and he couldn’t find anything else to say other than a simple “Ya… I promise.”  


Clark was already down the stairs and by the door waiting for him. He gave his boss a nod and followed him out of the Clinic.  


They had a few more stops, stopping in at a few of the other stalls set up along the only road in the little town, Clark selling off some of the more interesting things they had found in their travels the weeks before, and buying more ammo. He stopped and talked to almost every vender and townsperson they came across, asking them if there was anything that they needed, or if there was anything that could improve life in Sanctuary. Watching Clark talk to all these people MacCready got the feeling that he wasn’t the only person the man provided for and was looking out for. How Clark handled these people reminded him of his time as Mayor in Little Lamppost, delegating, making sure everyone had what they needed, a voice of reason when an argument broke out.  


It was a few hours later and the sun was getting low in the sky when Clark informed him that they were done, and going to be heading back to his house to rest up. Once back at Clark’s house, they nibbled on some of the non-perishable foods. MacCready was nursing a room temperature bottle of Nuka-Cola while sprawled out across Clark’s couch in his living room. The last time he had a comfortable place to rest his head was back at the Third Rail, and he could feel himself starting to nod off just sitting there, the time he kept his eyes closed between blinks growing longer. 

“I can set you up in one of the community houses to shack up in tonight if you want, the rooms are kinda small but you’ll have a bed at least.” Clark said from the table. 

MacCready just gave a hum in response, not really hearing the question, just responding to the sound of Clark’s voice. 

“’Cready.”  


“Huh.” MacCready opened his eyes blinking at Clark who just looking at him if the road goggles pointed in his direction were any indication. “What? Oh, nah I’m fine here Boss. I’d rather stick close just in case anyhow, can’t get rid of me that easily.”  


Clark just shook his head, “Suit yourself, but don’t bitch at me if you’re sore in the morning.” He stood up from the table and walked down the hallway slipping into his room.  


“I don’t bi- uh, complain.” MacCready grumbled kicking his boots off and making himself more comfortable on the couch. He pulled his hat down over his face, and just as he found the right spot to lay in he heard Clark coming back down the hallway.  


“Hey ‘Cready, catch.” Before he could even register what was going on something smacked him in the face.  


“What the f- hell Clark!?” he sputtered arms flailing he swatted whatever had just hit him in the face away. The offending object in question was a pillow, an old pillow but that was better than rolling up his duster like he usually did. He just threw a weak glare at the other man, before reaching over the side of the couch and picking his hat up from where it had fallen when the pillow stuck him.  


“Here, it’s uh, a little thin but should be fine for the night.” Clark chuckled at him, holding out an old worn thin baby blue blanket.  


“Aw, you shouldn’t have.” MacCready said half mockingly, as he took the blanket from Clark.  


“Get some rest, we’re heading out at dawn, Fort Hagen is just over half a day’s travel from here, and I don’t know what we’re going to be running into once we get inside.”  


MacCready just rolled his eyes as he put his hat back on his head.  


“Night MacCready.” Clark said as he left the mercenary there to sleep on his couch.  


“Night Boss.” MacCready yawned as he curled up under the blanket, and quickly drifted off sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Murphy was actually inspired by one of my Skyrim characters a big burly ox of a man with a giant great-ax, but the personality of a sweet Canadian Lumberjack who likes kids.
> 
> Honestly, I have a huge 5 thousand words of the next part written out already, I just don't know how I feel about some of it. It needs to flow a right way, and I'm just not happy with the words yet. It's going to be a longer chapter if I can't find a decent way to split it up correctly. 
> 
> Um, I guess leave a kudos or a comment if ya want?


	3. Radstorms and Demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh. I'm not gonna lie I struggled with this chapter for a while, the words just didn't wanna fit the way I wanted them too, and I kept re-writing a lot of parts. But I'm going camping this weekend and really wanted to get the next chapter out so I've been fiddling with it for a while.  
> Again Un-Beta'd so all mistakes are my own.

Clark had woken him up just before the sun started to rise, and they had grabbed their gear and headed out towards Fort Hagen with hardly a word between the two. MacCready didn't really know what he had gotten himself into when he signed up with Jamison Clark, the man kept to himself for the most part, but if MacCready knew one thing, it was that this man was a walking rad-storm waiting to happen. He could feel it in the air every time he walked beside Clark, and it was starting to make him nervous.  


It was like Clark was possessed, he hardly stopped the entire time, and a few times MacCready had to jog to keep up with him. They came upon Fort Hagen sometime afternoon if the sun was any indication. When they came upon the building Clark just stop and MacCready had to skip a step so he wouldn’t walk right into the taller man.  


“Uh… Clark?” he said stepping in front of him.  


“That’s it. Fort Hagen.” Clark said his voice sounded strained and MacCready could tell the man was stiffening up.  


“Okay. Well, let’s go do whatever it is we came here for, and then get the heck out of here, there’s always something that wants to go boom in these kinds of places if you’re not careful.” MacCready said glancing around the street.  


“Right. On me, let’s go.” Clark said and started to move forward again.  


As they approached the main front of the building MacCready thought he heard a faint humming noise.  


“Hey you hea-“ MacCready started to ask but was cut off by Clark grabbing him by the collar of his duster and pulling him down behind a rusted out car as MacCready gave a very undignified squawk just before the car started to be pelted with bullets.  


“Fucking turrets” Clark grumbled as he reached for his 10mm and waited for the machine to reload. MacCready had already swung his sniper rifle off his shoulder and was trying to look through the scope to see what they were dealing with.  


“Two turrets on the left of the building, 8 and 11 o’clock.” The machine buzzed as it started to reload, he felt Clark leave his side but took aim at the turret as it buzzed to life once again tracking Clark as he darted to the next car. He pulled the trigger as he breathed out and the turret exploded into a small burst of flame.  


He went to take aim at the second turret and just as he lined up the shot it exploded. Clark stood up from behind another car reloading his 10mm and waving MacCready over.  


“Yo, over here.”  


MacCready looked to over to his left at the harsh whisper, his boss, was crouched behind a pile of sandbags hiding from the turrets that he could hear chugging along. The humming of their targeting systems looking for them again after they had just made a quick dash to get to cover before they could lock on.

“You got it.” He grumbled as he waited for a second longer for the turret to turn away from his position.  


It took them about fifteen mins of ducking behind sandbags and around corners to take out the other three turrets that were placed around the building before they found an entrance to get into the building on the roof.  


As soon as they entered the building they hear a robotic voice “Fort Hagen is under Institute authority. Terminate intruder.”  


“W-wait the Institute?” MacCready whispered harshly, he had heard that right hadn’t he? He was looking at Clark, eyes wide and there was the smallest prick of fear starting to form in the back of his head. Why the hell did Clark have anything to do with the Institute?  


Clark didn’t give him an answer, he was as stiff as a board beside him. A rad-storm MacCready had thought earlier, and if he didn’t know any better this was the calm before the storm. Clark reached down and unclipped his swatter from his belt, he gripped it tight and just stormed out of the entrance they had come in.  


_“He’s insane!”_ MacCready thought as he crouched down low to follow his boss, Clark might want to go charging in but he was better suited at a distance, tight courters like this put him at a disadvantage, Clark knew that and yet there he was storming in.  


“Intruder detected.” Came the robotic voice again and MacCready froze as he laid eyes on an old model synth. And why was Clark running at it!?  


“Detect this fucker!” Clark snarled as he charged in bringing the swatter up and swung, smashing the things head, it didn’t come clean off but god was it terribly close. The sound as it ‘died’ had the hairs on the back of MacCready’s neck standing up.  


All hell broke loose as that first synth was destroyed, Clark was standing over the synth and MacCready could hear him breathing harshly. Something was up but before MacCready could check to see if he was okay more synths came rushing into the room. MacCready’s rifle was up and before Clark could move he was pulling the trigger taking down the one closest to his boss.  


It was enough to snap Clark out of whatever it was he was dealing with and the man turned and bringing up his swatter again he charged into the group of synths. MacCready took careful aim picking his shots with trained precision. Clark was in the fray of it all, swinging that damn swatter of his and MacCready didn’t want to put a bullet in him by mistake.

The fight was a blur. Clark swung, and every time he made contact it just fueled him to swing harder the next time. Clark could feel his muscles locking up, the laser pistols the synths had kept going off; the sound so familiar to him. Soon the only sound he could hear was a dull buzzing noise. It started too drowned out the sound of combat and Clark could only focus on swinging the swatter in his hands to keep the enemies off him.  


One of the synths managed to get close to him getting him from behind, hitting him across the back. White flashed through his vision as his back lite up in pain, he could feel something coursing through his body. Electricity. His mind supplied, he’d been hit with a stun gun before and this felt familiar. He cried out as it dropped him to his knee and as soon as his knee hit the ground his surroundings blurred and shifted changing before his eyes.  


_“Sergeant Clark!” One of his men was calling him. Who was that? Larson? No. Larson was on leave. “Sergeant you need to get up!” Bullets whizzed past his cover. He looked up at the faceless soldier in front of him. “Jamison get up!” the man screaming at him stood and grabbed onto him pulling him up. As soon as they were on their feet he turned to thank the man for his help but as soon as he turned the soldiers head snapped back and he dropped to the ground lifeless, blood pooling around his head.  
_

__

__

_“No!” he screamed as he threw himself away from the soldier.  
_

__

_“Clark!” Someone shouted from behind him._  


_“No…” he could feel himself shaking._  


_“Clark!” Someone grabbed him again and started pulling him._  


_“No. No.” He flinched away, they would end up dead too if they helped him.  
_

“Jamison!” MacCready was standing in front of him know looking up at him, concern flashing in those vibrant blue eyes. The smaller man’s hands here on his shoulders shaking him. “Hey you with me now?” MacCready would be lying if he wasn’t just a tad worried, he had only ever needed to use Clark’s first name a small handful of times.  


Clark took a shaky breath and nodded, not trusting his voice.  


“The f-heck was that? You just turned those synths into scrap and when that last one hit you, you just dropped. Scared the sh-crap out of me boss. Jeez.” MacCready said still not letting go of Clark he honestly wasn’t sure if the man would fall over without him holding him up right now. “I only called your name a dozen times but you were just spaced out.”  


Clark shook his head and ran a hand through his light brown hair. He cleared his throat and gave the sniper a clipped “Ya. Sorry.”  


“Look, I don’t pry because it’s none of my business but you wanna talk about that?”  


“Later.” Great, that was one conversation he wasn’t looking forward to having. “We need to keep moving,” Clark said as he looked down around the piles of destroyed synths and reached down and picked up his swatter. He must have dropped it when he went down.  


They scoured the rest of the floor taking out another turret and MacCready could hear Clark grumbling under his breath again at how much he hated the damned things. There wasn’t a whole lot on the top floor but they made their way down the stairs and MacCready took out two synths quietly before Clark had a chance to go rushing in again.  


Working their way through the second floor was less destructive than the one above them, MacCready still kept a close eye on Clark though. He was still tense and seemed hyper-aware of everything that was going on around him, his head would snap in the direction of any little noise.  


Eventually, they found an elevator, and Clark pushed the button with more force than needed and MacCready just looked at him with a raised brow. When the doors opened Clark motioned for MacCready to get in and soon they were on their way down.  


When the doors opened MacCready didn’t like the look of the long hallway, he caught sight of movement down at the end of the hall and instantly pushed himself and Clark up against the wall. “There’s more of those things.” He whispered as he brought his rifle up and looked through the scope. He counted at least five.  


“You gonna go Grognak on me again?” He asked Clark as he eyed him fiddling with his swatter again, probably already thinking about charging in again.  


Clark didn’t respond he just gripped his swatter and dropped into a crouch and off he went down the hall leaving MacCready behind. “Stubborn son of a bi-brahmin.” MacCready crouched down outside of the elevator using it as cover as he watched Clark get halfway down the hallway.

Clark was close. He could feel it. With every step in this godforsaken building, he was getting closer to his goal and these fucking synths weren’t going to stop him. He reached the cart fine enough, it would be decent cover. He could hear the synths at the end of the hallway, he grabbed onto the cart and peeked around the edge trying to get a visual on them. The cart creaked and the skeleton that was laying across the top crumbled the skull dislocating and rolling across the ground right beside him.  


“Fuck” whispered Clark ducking back behind the cart as the synths turned their attention to the hallway.  


A firefight quickly erupted between Clark and the synths. MacCready took aim once again and started trying to pick them off as best he could, he didn’t have the best of view and the flashing blue from their laser pistols only made it harder.  


Clark had wanted to use the close courters to his advantage, but that opportunity was no longer an option. He clipped the swatter back into place on his back and pulled the 10mm from its holster. He peeked out from behind the cart and managed to fire off a few shots before he ducked back behind it.  


It continued like that for what felt like several minutes until Clark poked his head out once again only to recoil back with a cry of pain. He had looked out at the wrong time and one of the laser pistol shots had grazed him across the side of his temple. The smell of burnt flesh and leather filled his nose as he shouted throwing himself back behind the cart. The leather of his road goggles was hot and it just irritated his skin more, he tried to open his eyes but the lens covering his left eye was cracked and as soon as he opened them it only hurt more.  


Clark ripped the goggles off his head they were useless to him now. Great.

“Clark!” cried MacCready as he lined up a shot and fired hitting the chest of another synth, doing enough damage to drop the thing. “Clark talk to me!”  


“I’m hit! I can’t fucking see!” he sounded more aggravated than in pain now though.  


“Hang on, I’ll come to you!” MacCready shot down the hall once again, he wasn’t sure if the shot connected or not, he was more concerned for Clark. He could see the man ripping off his road goggles.  
MacCready saw an opening and took his chances making a dash for Clark trying to stay as close to the wall as possible. When he reached Clark he had the palms of his hands pressed to his eyes and MacCready could see a laser burn across his left temple. Without thinking MacCready picked up Clark’s 10mm and continued firing at the remaining few synths there.  


It didn’t take long to dispatch them MacCready may prefer long distance rifles but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to handle a pistol either. He turned back to Clark who was still covering his eyes. “Here let me see,” MacCready said taking Clark’s hands and pried them away from his face.  


“Fuckers caught me in the side of the head and it burned the leather on my goggles, cracked the lens too.” He explained as he allowed MacCready to lower his hands, his eyes closed still.  


“Yeah looks like you got a nasty burn there. I think we need to use a stimpak Boss, especially with a head wound and being so close to your eyes. I wouldn’t take the chance.”  


Clark sighed “You’re right. There in my bag, grab one for me yeah?”  


MacCready took out one of the four stimpaks they had on hand and gently pressed it into Clark’s neck. His boss sighed at the relief and the burn started to heal fairly quickly. “You good?”  


Clark slouched against the cart as the stimpak started to kick in. “Ya… I think so.” He said as he opened his eyes looking up at the sniper and MacCready could feel his breath catch for a split second. Clark’s eyes were piercing, they weren’t blue or green like MacCready had imagined but almost like a golden honey colour and in that moment MacCready would swear he could see flecks of gold as well. He also had a fresh looking scar across the corner of his right eye that trailed down under the bandana that covered the rest of his face from view. Another scar across cut through his left eyebrow and it looked like another one under his left eye but MacCready could feel himself starting to stare so he forced himself to look away.

“Man fuck synths,” Said Clark “I really liked those goggles.” It was as close to a pout as Clark was probably ever going to get.  


MacCready hopped to his feet tossing Clark his 10mm and picked up his rifle again. “We should keep going.” He said as he held a hand out to Clark to help him up.  


“Right.” He said taking the lead and leading them down a flight of stairs. As soon as they hit the bottom a voice crackled over a PA system.  


“Well if it isn’t my old _friend_ the frozen TV dinner. Last time we met you were cozying up to the peas and apple cobbler.”  


At the voice Clark stopped moving, his whole body tensed and he went rigid eyes going wide. He shook his head and kept going. MacCready just watched keeping quite.  


The voice crackled again to life “Sorry your house has been a wreck for two hundred years. But I don’t need a roommate. Leave.”  


If MacCready was confused before, now he was just lost. What did they mean two hundred years? “What?” he asked. It was clearly questioning his boss but Clark just gave him a quick glance before glaring up at the ceiling.  


“Motherfucker thinks he’s such a fucking smart ass. Just you fucking wait.” Clark snarled under his breath.  


After a moment the voice came back “Hmph. Never expected you to come knocking on my door. Gave you a fifty-fifty odd of making it to Diamond City. After that. Figured the Commonwealth would chew you up like jerky.” And then the voice went quiet again.  


“Yeah?” Clark yelled at nothing. “Well it fucking did, but here I am asshole!”  


MacCready was going to ask him what exactly was going on but two synths chose then to round the next corner and he swallowed the question as he drew in a breath to line his crosshairs up with one of the synths heads.  


By the time he was lowering his sniper Clark was already on top of the second synth beating it with his swatter. Once the thing stopped moving he gave it a swift kick and stormed off continuing down the next hallway.  


“Look, you’re pissed off. I get. I do. But whatever you hope to accomplish in here? It’s not going to go your way.” The voice said.  


“Pissed is the understatement of the fucking century asshole!” Clark screamed. Without the road goggles to hide his eyes, MacCready could see the rage swimming in them. It was a little off-putting seeing his boss so pissed off. Clark, for the most part, was a pretty level headed guy. Always seemed in control no matter the situation. Sure there were times when they had been traveling he had seen him frustrated but never to this extent.  


They rounded another corner and Clark instantly jumped back grabbing MacCready with him as laser shots fired at them barely missing them.  


“You got to be fucking kidding me? Fuck. These. Things.” He snarled as he glared at the wall pulling out his 10mm and stepping out as soon as the shots stopped. Before MacCready could blink Clark had fired off about four shots and the turret that had been firing at them lay in pieces on the ground.  


“Holy sh-crap.” MacCready whispered. Clark had just fired that thing like a god damned professional. “Remind me never to make you angry.” He said with a nervous chuckle trying to lighten the mood a bit. Clark just gave him a look with a raised eyebrow and MacCready found himself not being able to make eye contact with the man for long. Clark’s eyes were so intense.  


They continued on and just as MacCready was starting to think they had heard the last from the jerk over the speakers he sighed loudly as the voice kicked back in. “You’ve got guts and determination, and that’s admirable. But you are in over your head in ways you can’t possibly comprehend.”  


“Try me asshole.” Clark grumbled as he kept making his way through the various halls only stopping to check his corners. They ran into a few more turrets but MacCready had beaten Clark to taking them out now that he knew they were littered in various corners of the ceilings.  


“It’s not too late. Stop. Turn around and leave. You have that option. Not a lot of people can say that.” Once more the jerk said and Clark made a sound in his throat that sounded like growl.  


“Over my dead body Kellogg!” He yelled making MacCready jump at the sudden noise. “When I find you mother fucker. I’m going to fucking kill you! You hear me! I’m going to fucking kill you!” Clark was breathing harshly beside him and he just looked at Clark with concern. As badly as he wanted to ask, now wasn’t the time for questions. He had the sinking feeling a lot of stuff would be revealed soon anyway. He was always curious about Clark, but something about this whole thing felt off. Wrong almost.  


A few more destroyed synths later and they came to a room that looked relatively lived in compared to the rest of the building. As soon as Clark laid eyes on the door across the room he ran at it and tried to open it only to find it locked. MacCready just stood behind him a few feet and watched as he tried to pull the door open, gripping the handle with white knuckles and yanking it with all his strength. When that didn’t seem to work he started throwing himself at it shoulder checking the metal door.  


“Come on!” He grunted as he threw himself at it. “Fucking come ON!” He shouted as he hit it again this time with so much force it actually rattled.

That was it. MacCready had had enough. Clark was only hurting himself at this point. “Clark enough come on!” he said as he closed the distance between them grabbing Clark’s shoulder and tried to pull him back. “You’re only gonna hurt yourself knock it off!” Clark threw himself against the door one more time before he allowed himself to be pulled by MacCready. “There has to be a key or a terminal somewhere just let’s take a look before you break something trying to get through there.” He tried to reason.  


He wasn’t sure if Clark was actually listening to him though he was just glaring at the door, his breathing ragged from overexerting himself. Just as Clark turned to look at MacCready the speakers in the room crackled to life once again.  


“Okay, you made it. I’m just up ahead. My synths are standing aside. Let’s talk.” And then an audible click of a door unlocking. Clark was back at the door in a flash.  


“Wait!” MacCready uttered stopping Clark once again. Clark just turned his head to look at the sniper over his shoulder and MacCready flinched at the stern look in his eyes, there was a fire there that he had never seen before. “I just want you to know. I’ve got your back for whatever is coming up. Whatever this is it's clearly important to you. I’m with you Boss.” He said giving Clark a firm nod, the hint of a smirk on his face.  


Clark looked away almost guilty for a moment before looking MacCready in the eyes, “Thanks MacCready. I… Thanks.” And then they went through the door and entering a dark room.  


MacCready was on high alert. He could feel eyes on his back and was about to voice his concern to Clark when the room started to light up slowly. And there across from them stood a bald man with a large scar across his face waving a pistol in his hand.  


“And there he is, the most resilient man in the commonwealth. Funny I thought I had that honor.” MacCready instantly recognized this man as who was speaking over the speakers. Something about the guy made the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. The way he carried himself reminded him of some of the high up Gunners he had run with in the past. Cold blooded killers. His mind filled in for him. “So. Here we are.”  


“Kellogg.” The most animalistic growl MacCready had ever heard escaped Clark as he took a few steps forward, he reached up and ripped the bandana down off his face and before MacCready could even comprehend what was going on he screamed making MacCready freeze in the spot. “You murdering, kidnapping psychopath. Give me my son! Give me Shaun! _Now!_ ”  


His _son_? Clark had a son. Clark was a father. A father to a son who had been taken by this man. MacCready could feel his chest tighten at just the thought.  


“Right to it then, huh? Okay. Fine. You’re son, Shaun. Great kid. A little older than you may have expected, but I’m guessing you figured that out by now. But if your hoping for a happy reunion. You’re boy’s not here.” Kellogg was calm, collected. It pissed MacCready off, and it was clearly making Clark more agitated as well.  


“God dammit you mercenary motherfucker! Where. Is. My. _Son?!_ ” he snarled.  


“Fine. I guess you’ve earned that much. Shaun’s in a good place. Where he’s safe, and comfortable, and loved. A place he calls home. The Institute.” Kellogg said a smug smile sliding onto his face.  


The room went silent. MacCready’s blood ran cold at the mention of the Institute and he looked at Clark who had recoiled back, a look of absolute anguish across his face. It honestly broke MacCready’s heart.  


“No… that’s not true… it can’t be. I’ve come so far dammit! No. No… I’ll find him. No matter where he is. Nothing will stop me. Including you!” he shook his head ignoring the man. That rage-filled fire was back in his eyes now.  


“God you’re persistent. I give you credit. It’s the way a father should act. The way I’d be acting if I were in your place, I like to think. Even if it is useless. But I think we’ve been talking long enough. We both know how this has to end. So… you ready?” Kellogg seemed done with the conversation. MacCready gripped his rifle a little tighter and took note of how many synths were surrounding them and where they were positioned. His mind already running through different possibilities on what he would need to do when the inevitable fight would break out.  


Clark looked down. His firsts at his side, white-knuckled. He looked up locking eyes with Kellogg as he reached for his swatter. “I’m going to make you suffer.” He growled and then all but lunged at Kellogg, swatter already raised and ready for the first swing.  


As soon as Clark moved MacCready had raised his rifle and shot at one of the synths and they crumpled to the ground. He turned his sights to Kellogg and how Clark was closing the distance between them fairly quickly when the man just disappeared from the spot he was standing it.  


“What the fuck?” Snarled Clark and he swung the swatter, it sailing through the air not connecting with anything.  


“He’s using a stealth boy!” MacCready shouted hoping Clark would hear him over the sound of all the laser pistols going off.  


“Show yourself, you fucking coward!” Clark screamed as he swung his swatter through the air in a desperate attempt at hitting Kellogg. When they came up empty he turned his attention to a nearby synth. It had stupidly started to approach Clark a baton in its hands but Clark just snarled at it and swept his swatter at its knees crushing its legs. It fell helplessly to the floor.

MacCready knew they were now at a disadvantage, you couldn’t kill something you couldn’t see, and unless they got lucky they might just have to wait for the stealth boy to run its course. He didn’t like that idea very much though. It left them like sitting ducks, easy targets. He shot another synth pegging it in the shoulder making it drop its weapon and then put a bullet in its chest. It didn’t get back up.  


Somewhere to his right MacCready could hear Clark destroying another synth, the man was screaming as he tore through the thing. MacCready dove for cover behind one of the computer terminals in the room and took aim at another synth that was closing in on Clark. The man was frantically looking around for Kellogg trying to find any indication of where he had gone, he wasn’t exactly paying attention to the synths. The sniper lined up another shot and just as he pulled the trigger pain flashed through his right leg and he cried out as he stumbled forward, the shot going wide.  


His cry startled Clark as he swung around after smashing another synth “MacCready!” He caught sight of the synth MacCready was taking aim at and charged it bringing the swatter down on it knocking its head clean off from its body.  


“I’m okay!” MacCready shouted as he shuffled behind his cover more looking down at his leg. There was blood starting to soak into the leg of his pants, and he could see the skin was burned and raw through the hole in his pants. Hissing through the pain he crawled for better ducking under one of the terminals. He needed to reload his rifle. As he reached into his duster for more ammo he saw it, the faint shimmer of an outline creeping against the walls of the room. Kellogg. Probably waiting for his synths to do his dirty work for him so he could swoop in at the last second and make a clean shot.  


“Clark! On your seven! It’s Kellogg!” He screamed trying to reload his rifle as fast as he could.  


Clark’s head snapped to the direction MacCready had given him. He hesitated for a moment and then saw the shimmer MacCready had seen earlier. “Found you motherfucker!” he growled. “MacCready take out the rest of the synths! Kellogg’s mine.”  


“Easy for you to say…” MacCready grumbled as he lined up another shot taking out one of the last three remaining synths. The last two synths were hiding behind terminals at the opposite side of the room like he was. It was now a battle well-timed pot-shots to see who would hit who first. As he waited for his chance he caught sight of Clark.  


A walking rad-storm. There was no other way to describe Clark as he moved to charge forward a literal war cry spilling from his lips as he threw himself at the shimmering outline of Kellogg. As soon as Clark tackled the man he rolled it looked like he missed for a second until he rolled and MacCready could see he was clutching onto something below him. MacCready pulled his eyes away determined to take out the last two synths before they decided Clark was an easier target.

He shouted wordless anger at the man below him he couldn’t see him yet but he could feel him. He had him finally. Clark grabbed on to whatever he could get his hand on not wanting Kellogg to slip away again. He brought his swatter down as hard as he could and couldn’t help the clipped laugh that escaped his throat when the blades on his swatter came back up coated in blood.  


“Got you now Kellogg.” He snarled.  


The shimmer under him started to flicker and the man reappeared below him. Kellogg looked up at him anger flashing through his face. “I wouldn’t count on it yet.” He snarked back as he kneed Clark in the stomach. It was enough of a blow that Kellogg took advantage of it, throwing himself against Clark head-butting him.  


“Son of a bitch!” the next thing Clark knew he was on his back Kellogg sneering down at him pain flashing between his eyes. He punched blindly above him, Kellogg had his swatter arm pinned to the ground. His fist connected several times before a fist hit him right back with as much force as he was dishing out. It caught him in the jaw and Clark grunted as it snapped his head to the side.  


The two men struggled for dominance for what seemed like hours but it could have only been seconds, every time one of them got the upper hand and landed a decent hit the tables would turn in an instant. Clark was struggling to get his swatter back in front of him, if only he could get it between them he could use it as a shield or use it to help throw the other man off him. They shifted yet again and for a split second they had enough space between them for Clark to get a knee up and under Kellogg.  


That split second was all it took to gain the upper hand and Clark used his knee to push Kellogg back just enough to get the swatter between them and push force him back. Kellogg tumbled back off balance, sensing the change in power he drew his pistol from its holster and raised to fire as Clark charged forward.

It only took about four shots to dispatch the two remaining synths and as soon as they were down he turned his attention back to the battle between Clark and Kellogg. They rolled across the ground throwing punches and kicks, and even Kellogg threw in a headbutt. He watched not wanting to take a shot while they wrestled for control afraid he would hit Clark. As soon as Clark kicked Kellogg away though he raised his rifle and took aim as Kellogg did the same. 

“Don’t you dare MacCready!” Clark shouted as he threw himself at Kellogg catching the snipers movement out of the corner of his eye. “He’s mine” he snarled as he swung his swatter at Kellogg it making contact with the arm he held his gun with, the blades tearing through the muscles on his forearm. MacCready watched as the pistol flew from his hand across the room amazed that Clark had moved so quickly. Just as quick Clark lunged forward butting the swatter up and into Kellogg’s chest, the blades digging into flesh and Kellogg cursed through gritted teeth as Clark just keep moving forward not relenting in his assault. Blood spilled down Clark’s swatter covering his hand and spilling onto the tiles below.  


As soon as Kellogg started to lose his balance Clark took the opening and still applying as much pressure as he could lurched forward kicking Kellogg’s legs out from under him. Before he had even hit the ground Clark was on him, swatter abandoned now. Kellogg’s head hit the ground with a loud crack, but before the Institute mercenary could even comprehend Clark’s fists were in his face, screaming above him.  


“You murdering piece of shit!” He screamed as his fist connected with Kellogg’s face. “You took everything from me!” Another fist connected.  


“Everything!” Clark’s punched him in the face again.  


“You murdered my fucking wife!” Again.  


“You stole my son!” Again.  


“You” Again.  


“Took” Again.  


“ _Everything!_ ” And again.  


Clark couldn’t stop himself, everything he had done. All the people he killed to get to this point, things he did he knew he couldn’t be proud of. All the jumping through hoop after hoop. Shaun wasn’t here. The reunion he had hoped for, had prayed for was torn away from him. And the fucker who’s bones he could feel breaking under his firsts had the gull to start laughing.  


“I knew it would be you” Kellogg gurgled, spitting blood as he continued to laugh weakly.  


He stopped as he looked down at the man who had taken everything from him. He registered somewhere that he was no longer was recognizable, his face a bloody mess. But that fucking laugh. That fucking laugh was what made something snap in Clark’s head. A hand shot out and clasped around Kellogg’s throat the laugh cutting off as soon as he started squeezing, and he just kept laying in punch after punch into the face that had haunted his thoughts since he left Vault 111 several months ago. The world around him seemed to slip away. Clark had one goal now.  


Make him suffer.  


Make him pay.  


_Kill him._

MacCready stood off to the side unable to tear his eyes away from the fight Kellogg was clearly losing. Watching Clark fight was like watching some otherworldly creature. His body moved with a trained precision that MacCready had only ever seen once or twice before. The grip he had on his rifle tightened as Clark started screaming about his wife, his son. It only struck too close to home. He knew that pain. A pain he still knew. Struggled with every day.  


He could only stand by and watch as Clark slowly lost control, every punch he threw less coordinated and wilder than the last. And when Kellogg, the poor son of a bitch started laughing he watched as all control slipped away from Clark. It was like watching a wild animal tear into its prey. Clark didn’t stop as the body under him finally went limp. He didn’t stop when Kellogg’s skull finally started to crack and crumble beneath his fists. He didn’t stop when Kellogg’s blood splattered across the tile or splashed across his face. MacCready could only stand and watch, slightly terrified of the man that was now in front of him. This was no longer the Clark he had been traveling with over the last few weeks. This, this was the demons he harbored taking over.  


MacCready stood silently and watched helplessly as Clark howled at a corpse that had taken everything from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clark has issues and I like to see my boy suffer. Sue me. 
> 
> Next chapter is like 90% written as well because it was originally going to be part of this chapter but it was getting long so I cut it.  
> Next one is a doosey though... like. Yikes. 
> 
> Anyways, I just wanna thank everyone who has left a kudos, a comment, subscribed, and bookmarked, and especially taken the time out of their day to read this. I honestly appreciate every single one of you.


	4. Choking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm just going to put a trigger warning for injury here, if that's something of a concern for you please be aware!
> 
> Un'Beta'd yet again all mistakes are my own!
> 
> And without further ado, enjoy!

He watched Clark beat the guy’s skull in with his fists, all he could do was stand there holding pressure to where the synth’s laser pistol had grazed into his right thigh. How do you comfort someone when their whole world was ripped from under their feet? Again. Clark had been screaming words earlier, but now it was just noise, there were no words, only the vocalization of his inner turmoil.  


“Clark.” He tried to pull the man out of his rage, these synths belonged to the Institute, they probably wouldn’t be too happy to find Clark and himself surrounded by their remains if they happen to have called for backup while they were fighting. “Clark… we need to go…” he tried again louder this time limping over to him. “We need to get out of here, there might be more coming. We’re in no condition to keep fighting synths. We need to leave.” He gently placed his hand on Clark’s shoulder, which seemed to snap the man out of his rage. “Clark…”  


Clark didn’t say anything at first. He was just silent and it started to scare MacCready. It startled the younger man when Clark spoke, his voice rough from all the screaming he had just done. “M-my son… Shaun isn’t… ‘Cready they- they took my boy” MacCready watched him start to shake, and MacCready could feel his heart breaking at how the man in front of him sounded. “I came all this way… I was so close. If I had just been faster! If I had just gotten here sooner. I let him slip right through my fingers! Again! Fuck!” Clark screamed.  


MacCready wanted to say something, anything to make him feel better, but honestly… what could he say? There wasn’t anything he could say to Clark, so he took a chance. “Look, Clark, we’l- we’ll find your son. If he’s anything like his dad he’s a tough kid. And if traveling with you for these last few weeks has taught me anything it’s your stubborn and you don’t give up. Hell you’ll tear apart the Commonwealth looking for your son like you tore this guy apart and well I made a promise to Murphy I’d watch your back so I guess I’ll be right there by your side Boss.”  


“Mac…” Clark looked up at him finally, he had unshed tears in his eyes, and MacCready could feel his heart hammer in his chest at how they swam like liquid honey, how the scars on his face seemed tight with his frown before sighing. “Thank you, MacCready. I-I needed to hear that.” He finally got up off Kellogg’s body looking down at the remains, giving it one final kick with his boot for good measure.  


“Let’s get the fuck out of here. We need to start planning our next steps.”  


“Don’t need to tell me twice,” MacCready said as he watched something catch Clark’s eye as he bent back down to Kellogg’s remains and pick something up. As Clark went to move to get back up a mechanical whizzing noise drew MacCready’s attention and he snapped his head over to the corner of the room. MacCready’s blood ran cold as he heard the emotionless mechanical voice say “Combat subroutine – eliminate hostiles.” His eyes caught sight of the Synth, one of the ones that had been in the room with Kellogg earlier. It was crawling along the ground and had picked up a weapon, taking aim.  


Everything felt like it moved in slow motion, it was like the first time he had ever had a hit of Jet. His body moved on its own. “Clark!” he screamed as the gun went off echoing around the room. He slammed into Clark pushing him out of the way and tumbled to the ground as the leg that had been shot earlier took his weight.  


He could hear Clark curse as he picked up his swatter, growling loudly as he ran at the synth, and he could hear the swatter make contact with the synthetic skull as it crunched. Everything felt cold suddenly. Why did he feel numb?  


“C-ark…” MacCready tried to say, but it came out all garbled, and he wheezed. Why did he sound like that? He tried to move but found his limbs didn’t want to cooperate with him. It was then that he started to get feeling back, it started in his chest, it was warm, like a tingling sensation, but quickly started to get hotter. MacCready could feel himself starting to panic.  


“Cready!” Clark was in front of him now leaning over him, if MacCready wasn’t panicking before he certainly was now by how worried Clark looked. “Mac, can you hear me? You’ve been shot, hang on!”

Shot? Well, that explained the all-consuming burning feeling in his chest. He wanted to say something, tell Clark he understood but when he opened his mouth all he could taste was copper.  


Blood. He could taste blood.  


“Oh fuck.” Clark sounded farther away now. Breathing was getting harder. “Mac, Mac hang on okay!”  


Hang on? Hang on to what he probably couldn’t even make a fist if he tried right now, his limbs felt like lead, his chest was on fire and it hurt.  


Clark disappeared from his view, and he tried to breathe but it sounded like he was gargling water.  


Oh shit. He was choking. Choking on his own blood. Fear slithered its way into his chest, and in his panic, he tried to gasp for air.

 

 

Clark had ran at the Synth, smashing its head in with a satisfying crush of plastic, he smirked as he kicked away Kellogg’s pistol from the synth’s hand.  


_“Guess this is where it went flying to. Huh.”_ He thought with a smirk.  


He turned to thank MacCready for pushing him out of the way, but his face fell when he saw the merc laying on the ground motionless. His heart stopped, but pounded back to life when he heard the chocked off sound of his name come from the younger man.  


That was all it took to kick Clark’s ass into overdrive as he raced over to MacCready’s side, blood had started to blossom across the snipers chest. He had taken the damned bullet meant for him. Clark reached into his pack for the first aid kit, he needed the stimpak’s in there. He all but tore the first aid kit open almost scattering its contents across the ground, as he quickly slid down to MacCready’s side. He grabbed the first stimpak he saw and tore the cap off with his teeth as he tilted MacCready’s face towards him.  


His blue eyes were filled with panic, darting around trying to focus on anything, he was trying to gasp for air but all that did was cause the blood in his throat and mouth to bubble and foam. Clark ripped the snipers duster open the green shirt he had on under it already stained darker due to the blood blossoming across his chest. Clark ripped that open as well it was just in his way now. Slowly muscle memory started to take over, this wasn’t the first time Clark had had to administer medical treatment after a battle.  


He located the source of the bleeding on MacCready’s right breast. Lung shot. Fuck.  


“I’m sorry Mac, just bear with me okay?” Clark rolled the sniper onto his side. He needed to stop MacCready from choking, he needed to clear his airway, but he also needed to check for an exit wound, it would be the deciding factor on if the sniper would live or die. When he rolled MacCready into the recovery position blood dribbled out of his mouth as his eyes flared open, pain clear as day written across his face.  
Clark tugged the duster the rest of the way off and thanked whatever god there was when he saw blood and felt an exit would. When he pressed the needle of the stimpak into MacCready’s back by the exit wound the hiss of the stimpak was followed by a sharp intake of air. Relief flashed through Clark for only a second as it was shattered by MacCready’s guttural scream of pain.

 

 

When he felt Clark move him he didn’t register the pain at first it was like the numbing all over again, but this time it only lasted for a brief second before pain exploded within him. He felt like he was on fire, everything was burning up. He’d been shot before but this was different, this felt different. He heard the hiss of the stimpak more than he felt it at first. His lungs which felt like they were constricting on themselves suddenly filled with air and he could breathe. He could breathe! The numbing effect of the stimpak only lasted for a moment before the white-hot flash of pain came rushing back through his chest tearing a scream from his lips before he could even process what was happening.  


“Fucking fuck! Mac, I’m sorry, just hang on. Just try to breathe slowly. Slow breaths ‘Creads.” He could hear Clark telling him, but breathing was slowly becoming hard again. He could still taste blood in his mouth but at least he didn’t feel it creeping up his throat anymore.  


MacCready tried to draw in a breath, it sounded wet and raspy to his ears, as he gasped for air, and it just caused more pain to flare across his chest, causing him to whimper. Everything was blurring around the edges know, he could see Clark working frantically above him but the larger man’s outline looked fuzzy. Clark was removing the rest of his shirt and with each jostle it hurt more. He almost willed himself to pass out, at least that way the pain would go away.  


Clark kept telling MacCready it was going to be okay, and looking back he was probably just trying to convince himself really. He uncapped the second Stimpak and pressed it into MacCready’s chest about an inch from the wound. It wasn’t enough to close the wound but it was defiantly working on mending the damage done inside the sniper’s body.  


When the second stimpak was applied MacCready felt like he was going numb again, the white-hot pain that licked across his whole body was creeping back from his limbs to just being in his chest.  


“Mac? You still with me buddy?” Clark’s hand was on his check patting him gently.  


MacCready took in a sharp breath, they didn’t cause him as much pain as it did a few seconds ago, he was still in pain; it just didn’t feel so crippling anymore. “H-hurts” he whimpered turning his head to chase Clark’s hand it was warm and he now that the heat from the pain was slowly disappearing he was getting cold.  


“I know ‘Creads, I know. I got one last stimpak, you took the first two like a champ, just one more okay?”  


MacCready just blinked and Clark didn’t like how dull those usually bright blues were starting to look. Mac’s body was probably going into shock, the stimpak’s were helpful for closing wounds but you still couldn’t push the body through more than what it was willing to take. And MacCready’s body had just taken one hell of a fucking beating.  


Clark pulled the last stimpak from their first aid kit and carefully injected the contents of it into MacCready’s system. The bullet hole that marred the pale skin on his back was slowly closing, and scabbing over before his very eyes, but the entry wound was still cause for concern. Clark rummaged through the rest of the kit positive that Murphy had packed some Med-X in there somewhere alongside the bandages. He knew of MacCready’s dislike for chems but if he moved him without the morphine-like meds he might be doing more harm than good. He also should pack the wound before moving the sniper, they had quite a distance to travel before Clark could get him to proper medical attention. MacCready could very well still bleed to death before getting to Sanctuary.

 

 

“Mac? Mac I’m going to give you some Med-X for the pain okay?” Clark patted his cheeks gently trying to get him to focus, his eyes were drooping closed and that worried him. “Gonna numb you up a bit before I pack that wound okay?”  


MacCready could hear him, but the words were getting hard to understand, he just whimpered in response trusting whatever it was that Clark was doing was to help. He just wanted to sleep.  


“Mac, I need you to stay awake a little longer for me okay? Can you do that for me? Please, Mac?” Clark pleaded.  


MacCready forced his eyes open, he just nodded his head slowly once. Clark tilted MacCready’s head to the side so he could inject the Med-X into his neck. As soon as the needle touched the sniper's skin his eyes flew open wide again flashing with panic for a second before Clark started administering the drug.  


He knew it worked fast, like all the other chems and drugs, and he knew it was doing its job when MacCready took a slow gasp of air, the pained look he’d had on his face slowly slipping away into a calmer expression. Okay. Med-X applied, now to pack and bandage the rest of it up. He turned back to the first aid kit, he needed to pack gauze into what was left of the wound and wrap it. He wasn’t sure if MacCready had any broken ribs but he needed to wrap his chest not wanting to take the risk.  


MacCready felt so light, the pain was disappearing, it was slowly ebbing away and breathing didn’t hurt so much anymore. It was nice. Whatever Clark had him with he was glad for it now. He turned his head to watch him fumbling to unroll the bandages, and then he was over him again in an instant.  


“Hey ‘Creads, how ya holding up buddy?”  


“Tired” he mumbled, his head felt like it was filling with fog.  


“I know, I’m gonna wrap you up and then we're gonna get the fuck out of here okay?” Clark told him, his voice was strained, as he rolled MacCready on his side again, it jostled the smaller man causing him to grunt in pain. Clark picked up MacCready’s shirt, the thing was half covered in blood by now and used it to wipe away the rest of the blood on his chest and back. He looked down at the sniper and as he took to his task had wondered if MacCready had always been this thin. Clark gave his head a shake, trying to ignore how small MacCready looked with his shirt off covered in his own blood, the younger man just kept his eyes forward and allowed Clark to manhandle him. Was he even aware of what he was doing?  


Clark wished he could just wash the thin streaks of crimson off of MacCready’s body completely, it felt so wrong. “Okay, that’s as good as it’s going to get for now. Time to sit up for me ‘Creads, you’re probably not gonna like this next part but it needs to be done. On three, okay?”  


MacCready just blinked. On three what now?  


“One.”  


Whoa, was Clark gonna move him?  


“Two.”  


That would hurt wouldn’t it?  


“Three!” Clark had one arm around the back of his neck and his other hand had a grip on his good side, he pulled MacCready up into a sitting position as gently as he could but it was like deadweight. MacCready’s eyes widened as he cried out involuntarily it tapering off into a whimper.  


“Fu-.” The mercenary stopped the curse by biting onto his lip.  


“I know bud, I know. Just a little longer okay?” Clark held him upright as best he could and positioned himself behind the sniper his back to Clark’s chest. He knew from personal experience that packing a wound was an uncomfortable experience.

 

 

Clark manhandled him some more shifting him as gently as he could but every so often he would groan quietly or hiss in pain when the movement went to fast. Clark was fidgeting with something he couldn’t quite see but paid no mind too, he was just trying to focus on keeping his breathing as even as possible. Clark suddenly wrapped an across his collarbone and held him tightly, and just as he was wondering why he felt Clark’s warm breath on his ear and heard him say softly. “I’m sorry” before pain exploded from his chest again.  


The white-hot flashes of pain returned with a vengeance as something was pushed into his chest right at the center of all his current misery. MacCready struggled weakly but Clark just held him tighter.  


“S-stop!” MacCready cried as he tried to push away from the intruding pain in his chest only to push himself into the muscular wall that was Clark’s chest. “Stop! It hurts! Make it stop!” Clark stop!” He tried as hard as he could to get his limbs to work correctly but they just moved oddly in a weak attempt to pry Clark’s arm off of him as he whimpered for the other man to make the pain go away.

 

 

Clark held MacCready tightly as he flailed, for someone so small, wiry and beat to all hell he didn’t think MacCready would put up this much of a fight, especially with a dose of Med-X in his system. It was almost done, the gauze he was packing into the wound wasn’t going as deep anymore. He kept repeating that was sorry and that it was almost over soon. That he would make it all better and that they would be safe.  


“There we go, all done,” Clark said as he just held onto the sniper as he continued to struggle not realizing Clark was done. “Hey Mac, hey calm down, you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay now.” Clark said gently as he eased up his grip on the merc. The struggling slowly stopped and MacCready’s head slipped back, resting on Clark’s shoulder as he gasped for air. Clark frowned, it still sounded wet to him but he ignored it, for now, he needed to finish and get them the hell out of this god damned building and back to Sanctuary.  


He wrapped the bandages across MacCready’s upper chest, keeping the bandages as tight as he dared not wanting to make it too hard for MacCready to breathe again. The whole time MacCready’s breathing evened out from strained gasps to shallow breaths and once the bandages were wrapped and Clark was satisfied they wouldn’t come undone, he grabbed MacCready’s old duster and draped it over his shoulders.  


Clark lifted MacCready up bridal style, trying to be careful with how he shifted the smaller man in his arms. MacCready hardly reacted to anything, he a faraway look in his now dull eyes. He only made a few sounds of discomfort when Clark lifted him but everything started to spin as soon as Clark started moving. The dull lights on the ceiling above them swam in his vision, everything turning grey and then slowly blackness crept into his vision and finally, the world around him went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part has been written since the beginning, I knew I wanted this to happen from the start. 
> 
> Poor 'Cready...
> 
> ANYWAY! I'll have the next chapter out soonish, sometime next week. I have part of it already written, as usual, I'm just... struggling with mind things right now.


	5. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. This chapter is ehhhh. Honestly the next will be better I promise. ಥ_ಥ  
> This was supposed to be like 2k words only, and then it turned into over 5k because I just kept re-writing parts over and over and over. 
> 
> I frickin' swear you guys. 
> 
> I'm still not happy with it, and I might come back and revise it some more. If I do I will promise to let you know so you can re-read if you like. If I do I'll be sure to put in markers so you don't have to go skimming through the whole chapter to find it.

“Hey, wake up sleepy head.” Someone whispered in his ear.  
MacCready groaned and rolled over, he was so tired. He couldn’t remember why but it felt like he just sprinted across the Commonwealth and back again.  


“Wake up Robbie.” He froze. He knew that voice.  


He opened his eyes slowly, afraid of what he would find. As soon as he opened his eyes enough to see, his breath got stuck in his throat. “L-Lucy?”  


There she was in all her beauty. Long black hair braided over her shoulder, her face held a few scars, and a few small freckles but was smooth and her green eyes sparkled at him as she smiled. So full of life, how he missed those eyes.  


“Yeah darling, you were kicking in your sleep.” She ran a hand through his hair and all he could do was blink up at her. “You’ve been working so hard in the fields I thought you could use a nap. It’s not healthy for you to push yourself like that Robbie.” She scolded him like she always did, he just lay there staring at her.  


“Robbie?” She gave him a worried look, and that’s when his brain finally caught up with him. He launched himself at her pulling her into a hug and buried his face into her neck. She smelled exactly how he remembered her, like fresh dirt and plants from their garden but also like the medicinal pastes and creams she made to sell to passing caravans.  


“I missed you…” He mumbled into her skin holding her tight afraid that if he let go she would disappear.  


She laughed as his beard tickled her neck and god had he missed that sound. It was one of the most beautiful noises he had ever heard in his life.  


“Robbie, what’s gotten into you? You’ve only been asleep for a few hours sweetie.”  


“Feels like a lifetime though…” he mumbled again nuzzling into her neck. She just continued to giggle and held him back and his chest swelled at the feeling.  


After a moment he pulled back and seemed to notice they were on their old farmstead on the edge of the Capital Wastes. Everything was exactly as he had left it. He froze and pulled Lucy back so he could look at her. There was someone he was forgetting. He closed his eyes and tried to think, but it was like a heavy curtain was covering something in the back of his mind. He felt like he was needed somewhere else. There was a pull from somewhere deep within him that told him he needed to get back to someplace soon. Someone needed his help.  


It hit him suddenly. “Lucy where’s Duncan?” panic started to set in. Where was his son?  


“He’s out back playing in the garden,” she said frowning. “Why? Robbie what’s wrong?” she asked but he was already out the back door.  


His eyes scanned their field not seeing their son and he felt his chest tighten. “Duncan!?” He shouted waiting for a response. Every second he could feel panic starting to set in. “Duncan where are you?” He was about to run off into the field when a little voice caught his attention.  


“Here daddy!” MacCready whipped around and from the corner of the house stumbled Duncan, covered in mud. Without even thinking MacCready ran and scooped his son up squeezing him as he turned in circles.  


“Jeez, don’t scare me like that little man! You nearly gave me a heart attack.” He laughed as he held his son, Duncan giggling as he was twirled in circles.  


“Sorry, daddy. I was cooking!” MacCready looked at his son, Lucy was right when she said Duncan took after him more, they had the same unruly brown hair and MacCready could already tell they shared the same facial features, but Duncan had inherited Lucy’s green eyes and her nose. He looked so healthy, older than he remembered even, and he briefly remembered walking had been an issue for his son last time he saw him but that must have been a mistake… MacCready’s last memory of his little boy was him lying in his bed, with a high fever and barely strong enough to keep his head up. That memory couldn’t be right though his son was happy and healthy right in front of him. Must have been what he was dreaming about before.  


“Cooking? What were you cooking?” He asked as he held his son, giving him a once over making sure he was actually okay.  


“Mud cakes!” Duncan cried as he clapped his muddy hands splattering mud everywhere. MacCready couldn’t care less, his chest swelled with happiness. It felt like it had been so long since he felt this way. Since he held his son.  


“Look at my boys. Now come on inside, dinners almost ready.” Lucy said from behind him, he turned to watch her standing in the doorway to the back of their little house. MacCready couldn’t help it he laughed, he had his wife with him, he had his son, and everything was perfect.  


He cleaned Duncan up, the two of them giggling as he washed Duncan up. The evening passed in a blur and but as he sat around their small table to eat a nagging feeling started to form in the back of his head, something wasn’t right. He pushed the feeling away as he watched Duncan scoop up bits of his radstag meat pretending he was a yao guai as he chewed.  


Later that evening MacCready had Duncan in his lap as he read one of Duncan’s favorite comic books to him. Duncan giggled and laughed as his dad made up voices for each of the characters. Lucy sitting in her chair across from them MacCready’s duster in her lap as she sewed closed a few small tears.  


Soon Duncan was asleep in his arms, MacCready just watched him sleep, looking up at Lucy and smiling at her. He felt like he had missed this for some reason.  


“Why don’t you take him to bed,” Lucy said quietly “You should head to bed yourself, don’t think I don’t feel you getting out of bed before the suns even up to go and work out in the fields. I see you out there Robert Joseph MacCready.”  


He blushed at being caught. That was right, he had made sure to get up before Lucy to start working in the fields, the faster they brought in their harvest the faster they could sell off their produce. The sooner they did that the sooner they could leave the Capital and head to the Commonwealth. A fresh start, a decent place to raise their son, a safe place for his family.  


“Alright, alright, we’re just so close to having enough Lu, just a few more caps and we can finally get out of this shi-” He stopped himself as her eyes narrowed and then she looked down at their son in his arms pointedly. “Out of this town.” He finished.  


“I know you wanna leave Robbie, I’m just as eager as you to move. But be smart about it yeah? We can’t move if you get sick on us. What would Duncan and I do if something happened to you?” A brief pang of guilt rushed through him at her words catching him off guard.  


He shifted Duncan in his arms as he got up, he walked over to his wife and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Same goes for you, Luce.” He whispered into her hair and then took Duncan to bed. Once Duncan was tucked in safe and sound in his bed and MacCready making sure the little oil lamp they kept in his room only had enough oil to burn for about an hour, he quietly exited his son's room closing the door behind him.  


MacCready made his way to his and Lucy’s room, it was small but well lived in and comfortable. He crawled into their bed, it was comfortable and smelled of both Lucy and him. It felt like it had been years since he slept in his own bed. Once his head his the pillow his eyes slowly closed and he drifted off to sleep once again.

“Robbie…” someone whispered in MacCready’s ear. “Robbie.” He grumbled and rolled over in his sleep only to roll into something warm and sticky.  


“What the…” He groaned as he opened his eyes and for the second time that night his breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t on his old farm stead anymore. No. He knew this place. It felt like this place haunted his dreams for over a year every time he closed his eyes. The metro station. There was limited light but he could make out the distinct underground tunnels, they held those familiar water stains in the concrete from years of neglect. The once decorative tile work of the walls chipped away and some of the pillars that held up the ceiling were crumbling. He could swear he could even hear the distant chime of a subway train that was never going to come. He knew this place. But why? Why couldn’t he remember?  


He looked down at what he had rolled in and recoiled back when he saw he was lying in a pool of blood. MacCready tried to swallow the panic that was rising in his throat. “Stay calm MacCready, just stay calm…” he whispered to himself as he got up stumbling away from the pool of blood. The copper scent starting to fill his nose. This felt… oddly familiar, only familiar in the worst way possible.  


“Robbie” a voice called out from further down the tunnel.  


“Lucy?” he called out, his voice echoing along the tunnel walls. This didn’t feel right. Lucy wasn’t supposed to be here. The hairs on the back of his neck started to stand up.  


“Where did you go Robbie?” came the voice again. MacCready edged slowly down the tunnel creeping as quietly as he could.  


“Lucy where are you?” He whispered squinting into the darkness trying to force his eyes to adjust to the limited light faster.  


“You left...” came his wife’s voice, it sounded strained. “You left me RJ…”  


“No, I- I needed to find…” He blanked. He had left though. He had left the Capital Wasteland for a reason, but now that he remembered he left he couldn’t seem to remember why.  


“You left us!” the voice whispered harshly, it seemed to come from right behind him. He turned quickly reaching out to grab Lucy but only grabbed thin air.  


“What?” he stumbled, “Lucy? Lucy where are you?” A pit of dread started to form in his stomach, what was going on.  


“I’ve been so lonely since you left RJ…” Came Lucy’s voice again this time coming from further down the dark tunnel once more.  


“But I’m here now!” He cried out, his legs moving him down the tunnel without even thinking. “Lucy I’m here, baby please! Where are you, Luce?” He moved with purpose now. He’d lost Lucy once before, hadn’t he? Not again. Never again.  


“They don’t know me like you do RJ…”  


He moved forward determined now. He stumbled a few times his boots catching on rubble and deep cracks in the floor. He must have been moving for a while now at least but the tunnel around him didn’t seem to change, it only grew darker the further he traveled. The air was getting thicker the further he went too and he had to pause for a moment sweat covering his brow as he caught his breath. He looked behind him at where he had come from and could no longer see the platform he had woken up on, it was long gone. “Where are you Lucy…” he whispered to the dark.  


Suddenly the air around him grew cold, and as he whispered he could see his breath. His instincts screaming danger all of a sudden as a ripple of unease crawled across his skin.  


“Right here” came the voice right behind him yet again. He spun around expecting to see nothing but the dim lighting, only he came face to face with Lucy. Only it wasn’t his wife. No. A scream tore its way out of his throat as he stared into the face of his beloved wife. Her skin pale, covered in blood from open gnarled wounds across her throat and other various places on her body. She stared at him, her usually joyful green eyes dull and lifeless blinking slowly. Tear stains ran across her cheeks cutting lines through the blood that covered her face. She reached out for him as he scrambled back screaming still.  


“You left me!” The frown she held on her face twisted into a snarl as she raised her voice. “You left me here!” She accused him. Memories flashed before his eyes as it all came rushing back to him.  


The night everything changed, where his world was shattered before him. He remembered assuring her it was safe, that they would only stay for a few hours just enough to eat something, rest and then leave. He remembered how the ferals had snuck up on them moving so fast his eyes could barely track them. How one second he was holding Lucy’s hand as they ran and then the next it was ripped from his grasp as she was pulled into a small hoard of the feral ghouls. He had looked back just in time to see one sink its rotten teeth into the flawless skin of her throat silencing her mid-scream. How he had run like a coward, his tail between his legs as he abounded his wife to a fate worse than death.  


“No. No, no, no. Not Again.” MacCready’s foot caught on something as he tried to back up away from his dead wife and he fell. As soon as he hit the ground he continued to move away as fast as he could, trying to get his feet to kick out from under him and get him away. He needed to get away.  


“You abandoned me!” Lucy screamed as she crouched down. “You left me with the ferals!”  


“No I would never! Lucy, Lucy you- you told me to run! They. They grabbed you so quickly, I didn’t have a choice! I didn’t want to leave you! I’m sorry!”  


“Look what they did to me RJ” She sobbed as she started crawling on all fours towards him, her body twisting unnaturally right before his eyes. “I died for you, Robbie! You killed me!”  


“No…” He choked on his own words, tears pricking his eyes as he tried to get his limbs to move faster to get himself away.  


“This is all your fault!”  


“No… I never… I never wanted this… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”  


“You left me to them!” She screamed as she moved like the ferals that had taken her away from him the night she died. She screamed as she leaped at him, and he screamed as well as he rolled away finally getting his feet under him and he took off at a sprint down the tunnel.  


“You can’t run RJ! You can’t run away from what you did!” Came her voice, it echoed off the tunnel walls and the words rang in his ears. She was right. He couldn’t run. But running was one of the things he did best. He tried to block out her screams as he continued to run down the tunnels, no matter how fast he ran though her voice was right behind him hot on his heels. It was like he could feel her breath, hot on the back of his neck.  


MacCready must have run for what felt like an hour, his chest heaved as it struggled to breathe in enough oxygen for his lungs to stop screaming at him, his knees shook. Actually, now that he stopped he noticed his entire body was shaking. He had to get out of here. He had to find an exit, if he got out of here he could get away from her. Away from the memories. Away from the feeling of guilt that had worked its way like a noose around his neck. He thought he had gotten rid of it, or at least loosened it enough that it didn’t feel like a constant threat tugging at him every so often, a constant reminder.  


He needed to get out, there was someone waiting for him out there, he made a deal with someone. Someone was waiting. His mind swam as he tried to remember. He tried to focus but all that came to him was a tall figure clad in dark leather. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it but all that did was make him think of amber eyes.  


“RJ” Lucy’s voice almost singing his name in a taunting manner. His eyes went wide as he franticly looked around him, trying to figure out which shadow she would come out of. “Aren’t you forgetting something RJ?” Lucy laughed.  


MacCready started to feel sick, what did she know that he didn’t? It didn’t matter, he just needed to get out. “Leave me alone!” He screamed at the shadows he swore were moving in the dark.  
“You’re forgetting something important RJ…” Lucy said tauntingly again.  


“Get me out of here!” MacCready’s chest felt like it was tightening making it hard to breathe, his limbs started to feel cold like they had just been submerged into ice water. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest and for a second if it kept beating like that it would burst through his chest. “Get away from me!” He croaked out as he started to move forward again.  


“But RJ… you’re forgetting someone… aren’t you?” she asked.  


He was… he just couldn’t remember who. “I’m sorry, I never meant for any of this to happen…” He staggered forward, fumbling through the dark. Lucy’s voice continued to taunt him every few steps he took but eventually in the distance there was a faint light. “Oh thank god” MacCready gasped as he pushed forward.  


“Robbie… You wouldn’t go would you?” Lucy’s voice sounded sad now and it tore MacCready apart a little on the inside.  


“I have to Lucy, he needs me!”  


“Who needs you RJ?”  


“I- I don’t, I can’t…” His head pounded as he moved towards the light. He was so close.  


“RJ” Lucy called out again to him. He turned to yell at her once more only there she was again. Lucy stood in the dark her death touched skin starting to rot before his eyes. “You forgot someone RJ…” She lifted her arm and pointed behind him as she gave a wicked laugh. His Lucy would never laugh like that. “Aren’t you forgetting your baby boy RJ?”  


His heart stopped in his chest. Duncan. Duncan had been with them the night Lucy had died. He remembered Lucy pushing their small son barely even two at the time into his arms as they ran. He had been holding Duncan when Lucy had been ripped from his grasp. His son had started crying at the sound of his mother’s screams almost like he knew what had happened.  


He turned to look back at where Lucy had pointed, back towards the light. There sitting in the light was Duncan. Only scattered around him several feral ghouls laid in their hibernated state.  


“Duncan!” MacCready cried frozen in the spot afraid that any movement would awaken the ferals and set them off into a frenzy.  


Duncan looked up at his father and just looked confused as to where he was, “Daddy?”  


“Duncan, buddy, don’t move okay? Daddy’s coming to get you. Just don’t move.” MacCready tried to keep his voice calm, but even he could hear the tremble to it. He started moving slowly towards his son but after a few steps realized he wasn’t any closer to Duncan. Behind him, Lucy just cackled as she watched him.  


“You won’t be able to save him, Robbie. You left me, and then you left your son. You left your wife to die then you abandoned your son!” Lucy screamed at him.  


MacCready could feel tears start to pin prick in the corners of his eyes, his throat felt tight. It was true. He did leave his wife. He did abandon his son. He had failed as a husband and then as a father. It should have been him. It should have been him that died that night in the metro station.  


“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” MacCready whispered.  


“Daddy…” Duncan cried out, eyeing the feral ghouls around him, it looked like he wasn’t sure if he should be afraid or not. “Daddy I wanna go home…” he whimpered as he pushed himself to his feet to stand. One of the ferals twitched as Duncan moved, MacCready saw it first his son oblivious to the danger he was in.  


“Duncan! Stop! Don’t move, just stay still!” MacCready cried as he rushed forward in another attempt to get to his son. Whatever had held him back before was no longer there it seemed and MacCready surged forward, his body on autopilot. All that mattered was he got to Duncan.  


“Daddy I’m scared” Duncan sniffled as he shuffled from one foot to the other. It seemed to be enough movement to rouse one of the ferals whose head twitched violently before snapping up and it let lose a shriek letting the others know that there was prey nearby.  


“Duncan! No!” MacCready screamed, he was only a few yards away when one of the ferals managed to scramble to its feet. Its head jerking side to side as if deciding who it wanted to go after, MacCready, or his son.  


The tiny sniffles of his son drew its attention as it turned towards the small boy. It let out a scream as it started to take its first steps after its slumber.  


“Duncan! Duncan run! Duncan!” MacCready reached out for his son as the feral screamed. Everything suddenly tilted on its axis and there was a flash of light. MacCready brought his hands up to cover his face from the blinding light and then everything went black.

The next thing he knew he was gasping to breathe, his body felt hot and sticky yet when he tried to move there was something was smothering him, he tried to kick off whatever was covering his body which only resulted in whatever it was to tangle in his legs. Panic filled his chest once again as he tried to get away as hands were suddenly on him holding him down and he started to thrash against them. The ferals. It had to be the ferals. They had got him. He was a goner. He was-  


“Bloody Christ, calm down there laddie otherwise you’ll tear your bloody stitches and all me hard work will be for nothin’,” a gruff voice said. Wait. He knew that voice. “Calm down lad, you’re safe now ya hear?”  


Slowly he opened his eyes but was immediately blinded by the harsh florescent light of the room, he groaned as he tried to bring an arm up to his face only for one of the hands holding him to stop him.  


“Now hold on there Mackie, don’t wanna be doing that. You’ll tear that IV right out'ta ya arm doing that.”  


“What?” He tried to ask but his voice came out like he had been gargling gravel. He blinked a few times his eyes adjusting to the light. There standing above him was Murphy.  


“One second, here we go now.” Murphy said as he helped MacCready sit up. His chest was sore and when he looked down he noticed he was shirtless, but his chest was all wrapped up in fresh bandages. There was a needle in his left arm that was attached to an IV bag hanging beside the bed. He vaguely remembered his surroundings as the upper level of the Clinic where Murphy worked. But how did he get here.  


“Here ya go lad, take a drink now, nice an slow.” Murphy said holding a glass of water out for him. MacCready did try to take Murphy’s advice but as soon as the water touched his lips he became aware of just how thirsty he was. “Slow down lad, you’ll make yourself sick.”  


Once he was done MacCready cleared his throat, “H-how did I get here?” He asked as he looked down trying to take stock of himself. The last thing he remembered was Fort Hagen, then the tunnels and then amber eyes… Clark! Oh god, he had taken a bullet for Clark hadn’t he.  


MacCready went wide eyed “Where’s Clark?!” He asked frantically, “Is he okay?”  


Murphy just chuckled lowly, “He’s fine laddie. You, on the other hand, gave us a right bloody fright ya did!” the bear of a man gave him a smirk. “Jamison came screamin’ into Sanctuary both of ya covered in blood and dirt and lord knows what else. Screamin’ for Ol’ Murphy to save ya. You’re lucky lad that he got ya to me when he did. The Commonwealth has a nasty reputation for makin’ wounds like that turn deadly with infection. I’ve had you on antibiotics since you got back.” He said pointing to the IV bag.  


MacCready ignored the fact it sounded like he was getting a lecture and asked again “But where’s Clark?”  


“Jamison is fine, see for ya self.” Murphy gave him a smile and moved to slide back the curtain that separated the few beds on the upper level. With the curtain drawn back he saw that Clark laid in the bed next to his, only he was asleep. He wasn’t in his road leathers and armor though, he had a relatively clean dark green tank top. It honestly took MacCready a moment to even realize it was Clark. He had only briefly seen the man without his road goggles and bandana. But Clark looked far younger than he would have thought him to be. His sandy brown hair usually pulled back was messily sticking up in places. His face was all sharp angles and would have been covered in freckles if it hadn’t been for all the scars running across his face. Even from where he laid MacCready could see several of them run across his face, it looked as though some of them were newer if the pink tint to them was any indication.  


“Like I said he’s not injured, more so fighting exhaustion and dehydration. Carried you back the whole way he did, said it took him a day and a half to get you back here. The poor sod didn’t stop once.” Murphy sighed, clearly it wasn’t just MacCready that was aware of Clark’s stubborn streak. “The fool has hardly left the Clinic since he brought ya in, I threatened I’d stick him in tha arse with a tranq if he didn’t get some sleep and stop his pacin’ around my work space.” Murphy started chuckling then, “Mind you that didn’t stop em and I had to slip em a wee bit somethin’ in his drink.”  


MacCready looked at Murphy like he was crazy “You drugged him?” He asked then couldn’t help but snicker at the thought of Clark pacing around the Clinic, yup that sounded like Clark alright. “How long have I been out?” He asked Murphy as he laid back down. Barely awake for more than fifteen minutes and he was already tired again.  


“You’ve been out for four and a half days lad.”  


MacCready stared. Four and a half days. He put a hand on his chest where the bullet had hit him and flinched a little when he pressed a bit too hard. He lost almost five days of travel. “What happened?”  


“Well from what Jamison told me, I have ya ta thank for savin’ his sorry arse. Seems you got more scrap in ya than I thought.” Murphy laughed as sat in the armchair that was beside his bed. “Jamison said you pushed him atta da way from taking that nasty hit.” As he pointed to MacCready’s bandages.  


“Yeah, guess I did… but Clark paid me to watch his back, I’d be a pretty shi- uh pretty bad mercenary if I let anything happen to my boss while I was on the clock.”  


“Aye. But that doesn’t mean what you did for him wasn’t brave. Reckless and stupid ya, but brave none the less lad.”  


MacCready shifted uncomfortably and pulled the blanket that was covering his legs up some, praise always felt weird when it was directed at him. He always struggled to take a compliment.  


“Ya were unconscious when he brought ya in, fever already startin from being dragged through the Commonwealth with a hole in ya chest. Do ya remember wakin up at all before?” Murphy asked him an eyebrow raised.  


“Uh… no” MacCready answered.  


“Rightfully so, you woke up a few times durin tha first night, tried to fight us off when I started pullin the gauze Jamie had packed into that wound. For a small wee fucker, ya sure have quite the right hook, even when ya are drugged up.”  


“You drugged me too?” MacCready asked with a weak sneer, his eyes were growing heavy, god was he tired.  


“Trust me, lad, if I didn’t have to I wouldn’t have. You’re body needed the rest after what you had gone through. It was only something to make ya sleep a lil’ easier, that and the antibiotics we’ve been feedin' ya through that.” The large man said nodding at the IV bag again. “The fever didn’t break until last night, and you’re lucky it did, a fever can kill the strongest of men when they're weak.”  


MacCready believed him, he’d seen men twice his size die to infection; medicine and antibiotics were hard to come by in the Commonwealth after all. He may have taken a bullet for his boss but Clark had saved his life, and not just that but had risked a lot to do it apparently. Murphy cleared his throat jarring MacCready out of his thoughts.  


“I’ll leave ya to rest lad, I’ll be sure ta let Jamie know ya woke up.” Murphy said standing to leave but paused for a moment. “Before the both of you’s left, ya promised me you'd look after him. Ya kept ya promise to me and I appreciate that. All of Sanctuary owes you for keeping our Jamie safe. The people here won’t soon forget it MacCready.” Murphy said, and gave him that kind caring smile he had given Clark before they had left.  


MacCready could feel his cheeks starting to warm up at the genuine praise. “Uh. No problem” he stuttered. “A-and Murphy, thanks for uh not letting me die I guess.”  


Murphy just barked out a deep laugh. “That’s my job Mackie, that’s my job.” And with a surprising quietness to the large man he slipped away.  


MacCready looked over at Clark sleeping in the next bed over as he pulled the covers of the bed up around himself. He felt the pulls of sleep but fought them off for a moment more so he could study Clark’s face. The events of Fort Hagen coming back to him slowly, Kellogg’s odd comments to Clark, Clark’s son, hell the Institute being involved. But MacCready knew one thing, if Clark had a missing child out there in the Commonwealth, then he would help find him. And maybe, just maybe Clark could help him in return. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor 'Cready, the poor guy can't get a break to be honest.  
> Thing's will get better for him I promise.  
> Next one is gonna be more Clark and MacCready interactions I promise. 
> 
> Also, yay Murphy is back? I secretly love Murphy and it looks like Cready might be warming up to him a bit more. We'll see though. MacCready is odd when it comes to people who he respects.
> 
> And as a little side note I'm going to be starting a new job soon so I apologize in advance if things slow down. I've tried to post at least once a week or close to a week but I can't promise that now with this new job. ಥ_ಥ


	6. We Should Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to all those that are celebrating/celebrated over the long weekend!  
> I had a bit of fun writing this chapter, it's not as serious as the last few, and next chapter will be more fun stuff hopefully but we'll see!  
> All mistakes are my own.

The next time he woke up MacCready knew where he was. He had slept peacefully which he was grateful for, he wasn’t fond of the nightmares that haunted him and as he blinked at the ceiling he actually felt rested for the first time in a while. He didn’t move yet, he just laid there and listened for a moment. He could faintly hear people bustling about, probably working on the buildings or out in the fields. Every so often he could hear the braying of a brahmin.  


He turned to look over at Clark only to find his boss no longer in the bed asleep but asleep sitting in the chair where Murphy had sat the night before, arms crossed and head down as if he had nodded off while waiting. He was still in the dark green tank top but also a pair a jeans MacCready was sure were a size too large. But interestingly what he hadn’t noticed was Clark had a tattoo on his right shoulder.  


Curiosity got the better of MacCready as he sat up and leaned over the edge of the bed slightly to get a better look at it. The only tattoo’s he’d seen before where the one’s the Gunner’s had and most of them had been the tattoo’s they branded onto their soldiers to identify their blood types. The other ones had all been tallies for kills, or crude drawings done on a soldier that had the unfortunate fate of getting drunk when one of the scratchers was around. Clark’s was clean and colourful even, he’d never seen someone with a coloured tattoo before.  


Leaning over the side of the bed he could make out some sort of animal skull, canine looking was his best guess, and in its jaws dangled a chain with dog tags. But what drew his eyes the most was the beautiful vibrant purple flowers that flowed in behind the skull as if caught in a breeze. The flowers were full of life but as the petals of the flowers flowed further down his arm towards his elbow they started to wither and look dead. MacCready had never seen flowers like that before, the Capital and Commonwealth had some interesting wildlife but nothing as beautiful like what Clark had tattooed on his arm.  


Caught up in his staring MacCready didn’t notice Clark stirring, once he noticed he looked up and came face to face with those honey amber eyes. The two men just blinked at one another, MacCready’s eyes wide in embarrassment at being caught staring, Clark just blinked as if he was trying to decide if he was still asleep or not. Suddenly Clark shot up making MacCready yelp causing him to lose his balance and he started to fall off the side of the bed. Before he could move his arms out to catch himself, Clark was there to catch him, and lean him back against the headboard of the bed.  


“Holy shit you’re awake!” He exclaimed as he gave MacCready a once over, before laughing. MacCready’s heart jumped at it. There was that damned laugh again, it had no right sounding so genuine. Suddenly Clark was right in personal space with a scowl now across his face. MacCready was about to ask him what was wrong when Clark started jabbing him with a finger into his good shoulder, “Don’t you ever, _ever_ , pull a fucking stunt like that again MacCready”  


“Hey! Ow, ow, Clark cut it out!” he tried to swat Clark’s hand away.  


“You scared the shit out of me you little bastard!”  


“Clark knock it off! I’m still sore!”  


“Oh you’ll be sore alright, I have half a mind to kick your ass once you’re back on your feet.”  


“Jeez! Alright! Next time I’ll let you take the bullet, just stop jabbing at me!”  


“You little shi-“  


“That’s enough of that lads!” Came a loud bark of a command, both men stopped in what probably looked like a childish squabble to see Murphy standing a few feet away with a tray in his hands. “Stop ya fighting, or do I have to separate the two of you’s like children?”  


MacCready shrunk into himself at the words and chanced a look at Clark and could see he had a similar reaction. “Now’s behave, I didn’t go ta all the effort to brings the both of you’s lunch only for ya to spill it all over tha place with your fightin’” He gave both men a look, one bushy red eyebrow raised as if daring them to start up again.  


Clark sighed and sat back down arms crossed, he then got a wicked grin as he looked at Murphy and with a defiantly raised eyebrow of his own; “Whatever you say… _Dad._ ”  


MacCready tried to hold back the laughter that threatened to escape him, he did, but when Murphy just narrowed his eyes in a disapproving look he couldn’t contain himself anymore and started laughing. He had about one point two seconds to enjoy the teasing comment before his laughter started to turn to wheezing as his chest tightened up painfully on him and he started to cough violently.  


“Oh shit, Cready you okay?” Clark was at his side instantly gently patting his back.  


“Yeah, yeah I’m good,” MacCready wheezed as he got his breathing under control.  


“Jamison, if ya’d kindly not kill my patient after I worked so hard to keep ‘em alive I’d appreciate it.” He scolded as he put the tray down on the little side table in between the MacCready’s bed and the chair Clark had been sitting in. He pulled out a stethoscope and after checking MacCready’s breathing seemed happy he hadn’t damaged anything.  


“Now if you two boys can behave ya’selfs I’ll leave ya ta your lunch, I have to tend to one of the damn brahmin, tried to jump a fence and got it’s dammed legs caught up in the wires.” Murphy grumbled as he left the two men.  


As soon as the older man was gone MacCready eyed the bowls of soup on the tray, his stomach growled loudly at the mere thought of food. Clark grabbed one of the bowls and handed it to him. “Here, you’re probably starving right?”  


“Uh, yeah actually.” He said taking the bowl it was warm in his hands and smelled amazing. At the first spoonful, he groaned at the flavor. Clark was a decent cook but whoever had made this had him beat by miles, it tasted like squirrel stew only with more vegetables. “Oh man,” he said around a mouthful, “This is freaking amazing!”  


Clark snorted beside him as he started to dig into his own bowl, “I’ll be sure let Shea know you appreciate her cooking. Now slow down you’re gonna make yourself sick.”  


MacCready just rolled his eyes, he knew that, but his last meal had been what, close to six days ago? Sure he was out for almost all of it but that didn’t mean he wasn’t hungry. “I know, Murphy already lectured me about taking it slow last night.” He said as he forfeited the spoon in favor of just slurping the soup straight from the bowl.  


“Yeah he mentioned you woke up last night, I wanted to be up when you woke up but I just couldn’t stay awake for some reason last night.” Clark said with a frown as he picked at the food in his bowl, he hardly touched what Murphy had brought, he just kept a careful eye on the mercenary in the bed beside him.  


MacCready finished off what was left in the bowl, and fought the urge to lick the bowl clean. “Not hungry Boss?”  


“What? Ah, not really, here.” He said taking MacCready’s empty bowl from his hands and replacing it with his own. “You need it more than I do.”  


“Thanks Boss,” MacCready said happily as he dug into the second bowl. Clark shifted back in the armchair he had brought up. He’d been sleeping in it more often than Murphy would have liked but the entire time MacCready had been unconscious he had felt the need to watch over the small sniper.  


“Hey Mac, we uh…” Clark paused for a moment to sigh heavily before continuing “We should talk…”  


MacCready froze mid-spoonful of soup half way to his mouth. “Uh. What?” Panic started to set in a bit, was this where Clark told him he didn't want to work together anymore. Had he messed up somehow back at Fort Hagen?  


“We need to talk.” He said more seriously, his eyes glued to his feet. “Look I hired you to watch my six, and I dragged you into a literal war zone at Fort Hagen without giving you all the specs of the op. I withheld information from you, and because of that, my negligence almost cost you your life…”  


Clark was silent then as if waiting for MacCready to respond. “Uh, Boss. I don’t know if you know this, but that’s kinda the risk of being a gun for hire. I know what risks I’m running when I make a contract with someone, I could get hurt, or I could die. I was just doing my job.” MacCready said as if it was no big deal.  


Clark just groaned as he rubbed his hands across his face. “MacCready you could have _died!_ ” Clark grumbled something that sounded like a few quick curses and then finally looked MacCready in the eyes that defiant fire was back. “I will not have another soldier dying on my watch!”  


“I knew it” MacCready scoffed as he dropped his spoon back into his bowl, it clattering loudly in the empty room. He narrowed his gaze at Clark and just gave him a glare.  


“Knew what?” Clark asked not understanding what the mercenary was talking about, taken aback a bit by his sudden hostility.  


“I had my suspicions early on, I thought maybe you had been an ex-gunner like me, but you’re too controlled for that, you’re not greedy like them either. I saw how you handled that gun at Fort Hagen, how you dispatched those turrets and synths. Training like that, you don’t find that in gunners so that only leaves the Brotherhood of Steel. What you a deserter or you just undercover?” MacCready’s blue eyes shone with defiance. Clark knew he had no love for the Brotherhood.  


“You think… you think I’m with those fucking nutjobs?” Clark asked, “Oh Mac, I wouldn’t be caught dead with those brainwashed dummies.” Clark just laughed, but composed himself quickly when MacCready just glared at him more.  


“Well then where the fu-frick did you learn to shoot like that?” He asked throwing his right arm out in front of himself to articulate himself.  


Clark got quiet for a moment and looked away, his body language like he before they went into Fort Hagen, distant, and filled with turmoil. MacCready felt like he had said something he maybe shouldn’t have. His boss slowly looked up and those amber eyes suddenly held sadness in them. “I guess you’d find out sooner or later, might as well come from me and not someone else…”  


“Say what?” MacCready felt like a lot of the questions he had always wondered about Clark would suddenly get answered and it made him nervous all of a sudden. He genuinely enjoyed traveling and working with the other man, what they had was a good setup. He wasn’t ready for that dynamic to change yet.  


“How old do you think I am?” Clark asked him giving him a sad smirk.  


“I don’t see how this is important right now…” he answered in an attempt to deflect the conversation.  


“How old?” Clark just asked again.  


“Geez well you’re older than me I’d guess, I’m only twenty-two maybe twenty-three? So I’d guess maybe twenty-seven or eight maybe?”  


“You’re only twenty-two?” Clark gave him a surprised look before shaking his head, “Wait, no, back on track. You’re not too far off, I’m physically only twenty-nine, but what if I told you I’m actually closer to two hundred and forty.” Clark said not looking away.  


MacCready almost laughed, but the way Clark said it, the serious behind it, that sad look in those amber eyes. “You’ve got the best poker face I’ve ever seen and this is one big joke or you’re actually telling me the truth…”  


“To be honest I suck at poker, and I really wish I wasn’t.” Clark said sadly.  


“H-How is that even possible?”  


“Strap in ‘Cready, this is gonna be a long story…” Clark sighed.  


“Try me” MacCready said genuinely interested now.  


“I dunno where to start exactly, it’s been a while since I spoke about my life before the bombs dropped.”  


“Whoa, whoa, whoa. So you were there? When the bombs dropped?” MacCready leaned forward a bit, curious.  


“Yeah got a front row seat to it actually” Clark flinched at the memory and MacCready decided to change the subject.  


“So how does that explain how you know how to handle a gun?” He asked instead.  


“I was part of the US military, I joined the military when I was young and dumb, got noticed by a special task force when I hit my mid-twenties. Climbed the ranks and became Sergeant Major Jamison Clark, of the 108th Infantry Regiment; Unit Fox Company. I’m no sharpshooter but I was a crack shot with handguns and heavy artillery rifles, and I have a knack for military planning. I had a unit of men under my command and when shit needed to get done behind enemy lines they would send in the 108th Fox Company to get it done.”  


“So, what you were some big deal?”  


“Eh, kinda. Being a task force meant you had to hide what you did from a lot of people so my men and I knew we were a ‘big deal’ but to a lot of people we were just regular soldiers.”  


“So if you’re such a crack shot then why the baseball bat?” MacCready asked. He personally hated close combat fighting, left you open to too many factors.  


Clark sighed as he leaned further back into his chair. “I-I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of, and pulling the trigger on a gun is one of them. Not everyone I was ordered to take down was guilty of the crimes they were accused of…”  


“If you don’t wanna talk about it Boss we don’t have to…” MacCready said giving Clark an out if he wanted it.  


“No, no, you deserve to hear the truth, and not because you almost died protecting my ass. I meant it when I said I consider you a friend MacCready. It’s just-” he paused trying to find the words. “I did some stuff that got me kicked out of the military. ‘Honorable discharge’ they call it. I left the military behind me and I had hoped when I did I wouldn’t have had to pick up a gun ever again but that’s a hard thing to do when you wake up two hundred and ten years after the bombs dropped to find a special kind of fucked up world.”  


“Wake up?” MacCready thought that was odd, did Clark sleep through the end of the world like some fairytale princess? He had read that in a book somewhere before right?  


“Uh yeah, when I left the military, as a parting gift they gave me a huge wad of cash, a pension for my time served that I could cash in when I retired and a sweet little ticket guaranteeing my family and I's safety in the event of a nuclear fallout.” If Clark could spit venom he would have as the last sentence left his lips. “Their gift ended up being my god damned curse in the end.” He said bitterly.  


“Because of my service I was pre-selected for entrance into the local vault. Vault 111. My wife… Nora, she thought it was great, she always loved planning things out and making back up plans, use to say the vault was as good of a plan as any. But on the day the bombs dropped. All those plans were useless, we just ended up running to the vault, we left everything behind, and all we had were the clothes on our backs. I ran with our newly born son, Shaun to the vault. As soon as we got in I handed him off to her, he, he had been fussy all day, and as soon as she held him he stopped. They took us to these… decontamination pods said they needed to get rid of any radiation that we might have come in contact with to avoid contamination in the vault. I offered to hold Shaun but Nora said she had him. I should have taken him. If I had known… I would have taken him.” Clark bent over himself, head in his hands, his hair falling around his face. MacCready went to reach out to place a hand on his shoulder but pulled back when he continued.  


“They were cryo pods…” he whispered. “They were fucking cryogenic pods. They froze us. They froze us like we were just packaged meat. God some days I wake up and I can still feel the frost on my skin and the ice in my lungs.” And he visibly shivered at the memory.  


“One moment I’m looking at my wife and son and then the next their just… gone… Kellogg. Kellogg was on the team that woke us up originally, they, they took Shaun and killed Nora. I, I tried to get out of that pod, I tried to get to her but the door was locked still.” Clark shook gently as he retold the story.  


“Clark… I’m so sorry.” I understand. On the tip of MacCready’s tongue but he bit back the comment. This moment, it was about Clark, not himself.  


“Someone knew we were there. Everything I’ve dug up since waking up pointed to the Institute, but know that I know they actually have him… I don’t know what my next step is. I’ll have to go back to Diamond City and speak with the detective I’ve been working with there.” Clark sat back up taking a deep breath to rein himself back in.  


“Valentine?” MacCready took a guess, it only made sense Valentine was the only detective he knew of.  


“Yeah.” Clark sighed.  


“Okay so we’ll go to Diamond City and meet up with Valentine and we’ll figure out where to go from there.” MacCready said.  


Clark just looked at him and blinked, “Did you not just listen to what I’ve been saying? MacCready, the Institute has my son. If going to war with the Institute is what it’s going to take to get my son back I’m going to do it. This is my problem, I’m not dragging anyone else into this. You almost died MacCready. When Murphy and I got you up on his operating table your heart _stopped_! I had to do compressions and CPR on you to keep you breathing while Murphy shot you up with buffout to jumpstart your heart again!” Clark was up on his feet pacing the small room, hands pulling at his hair as he shouted.  


Well he had guessed it had been a close call but to hear how close… that was a bit of a surprise. But the fact that Clark didn’t seem to want his help just rubbed him in the wrong way and he could feel himself getting frustrated. “You hired me to watch your back! You point, I’ll follow, that was the deal! I’d be a pretty shit- ugh crap! I’d, I’d be a horrible mercenary if I bailed on you now, and I think I’d be a pretty bad friend too.” MacCready yelled back.  


Both men locked eyes with each other, neither refusing to break contact first. Cerulean blues stared into honey amber, a determined look in each. It was several long strained moments before Clark growled breaking eye contact. “Stubborn little shit, pulling the god damn friend card on me.”  


MacCready smirked “You must be rubbing off on me then Boss.”  


Clark just rolled his eyes. “You sure you still wanna travel with me?” if MacCready didn’t know any better he looked nervous, as if MacCready would actually say no.  


“You hired me, remember, and sticking with you has made me a ton of caps. Give me a day and I should be good to go.” MacCready said.  


“Uh, no?” Clark said sitting back down. “Your ass ain’t leaving that bed until you have Murph’s stamp of approval.” MacCready just frowned and Clark held his hands up. “His words, not mine. Just trust me, Murphy takes his job very seriously. I know for a fact he has several pairs of handcuffs up here.”  


MacCready wasn’t sure if Clark was bluffing or not but the idea of being handcuffed to a bed in front of Clark made him squirm slightly, not very fond of the idea, and he decided maybe it wasn’t worth the risk.  


“Once you get Murphy’s okay we’ll stock up and then head out again okay?”  


“Sure thing Boss.” MacCready said looking down at the half bowl of soup he had left, he wasn’t hungry anymore.  


“And MacCready…” Clark said drawing the smaller man’s attention. “I am glad you’re okay, It would suck to lose the best shot in the Commonwealth, but it would have been worse to lose a friend.” Clark gave him a genuine smile that had MacCready’s chest tighten oddly. Clark stood and leaned down to take the bowl from MacCready’s hands and Clark ruffled his hair in a playful manner before taking the tray and turning to leave. “I’ll let you rest, if you need anything just shout for me, I won’t be far.” And then he was gone.  


MacCready sank down into the bed. Clark had just unloaded a lot of information on him, he still had questions but he would find the time later to ask them. For now, his main concern was getting better so he wouldn’t delay Clark in finding his son any longer. Once that was sorted out he would deal with finding Duncan a cure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Clark's tattoo is a fox skull to represent Fox Company, the flowers depicted around the skull are monkshood, which is a very beautiful flower but is also a toxic plant. If the language of flowers it also means 'Hatred' and to 'Be Cautious". I'd like to think that Mac has never seen a coloured tattoo before because while black ink could still be somewhat easily made, coloured inks would be much harder and some colours probably wouldn't even be able to be recreated. 
> 
> ALSO Clark's face is revealed! So here's what my boy actually looks like;  
> http://shewhoiswolf.tumblr.com/post/178862418935/and-whoop-there-is-clarks-face-revealed
> 
> Just a little side note, I did start my new job and it's really cool, but I won't have as much free time to write as I did before, I've tried to get a chapter out at least once a week and I'd love to still keep doing that but now I'm working full time so just a fair warning things may slow down a bit, I don't plan to stop writing any time soon, and in fact I have some side stories of these boys in the works, one I won't post till later or may even tie into this story but also a Halloween themed/Spooky AU planned for our boys. Who knows if I'll actually be able to finish before Halloween though. RIP. 
> 
> Anyways I just wanted to say thank you again to all those who have taken the time to read what I've posted, left a kudos and commented! I appreciate every single one of you and I've tried to reply to everyone's comment as quickly as I can. 
> 
> I also got some compliments on The Clinic video I made and I wanted to say thank you! My guilty pleasure if settlement building and I'm super excited about Fallout 76's beta being released where I can continue to build to my heart's content.


	7. Insecurities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yesh, this took longer to get out than I wanted to, I'm trying to balance my new job, a social life, and other things accordingly still so please bear with me as I figure them out. 
> 
> Also the next chapter will be slightly delayed because I've also started writing a Halloween AU for these boys since it's that time of year and how could I not write something a little Halloween-esk for these boys?

It had been three more restless days till Murphy gave MacCready the all clear, he had talked Murphy into giving him an extra stimpak to help the healing process along. It wasn’t hard to do though, he was pretty sure Clark and himself had put the man’s patience to the test. Especially when they had decided to pass the time one evening by playing a game of Blast Radiance and it had ended up in a yelling match over the rules of the game.  


After he was released from the Clinic he found himself crashing on Clark’s couch again. Clark had tried to convince to take his bed and that he would sleep on the couch, insisting that if he wasn’t going to stay in one of the unoccupied houses he should at least sleep in a real bed. Clark had lost that fight though when MacCready fixed him with a stare and a blunt statement of “Out of the two of us Boss, which one of us has fallen asleep in an armchair the last few nights?”  


Codsworth, which MacCready had learned was Clark’s Mr. Handy butler essentially had made dinner for the two of them that night. It had thrown poor MacCready for a loop to walk into the house to see the robot just hovering in the kitchen all three of its arms occupied with completing the meal.  


“Ah, Mr. MacCready, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Sir has told me oh so much about you while you were recovering. I’m so pleased to see you’re feeling better.”  


“Uh, thanks?” he said not sure how to really interact with the bot.  


“Sir asked that I mend your coat for you as well, you’ll find it hanging in the washroom down the hall. I’m sorry to say some of the stains were just dreadfully hard to remove, I do hope you find it satisfactory.”  


“My duster?” He asked blinking. He had just assumed it was gone, either beyond repair or just left behind at Fort Hagen. He paused for a moment before a wave of panic rushed through him as he remembered what he usually kept in his right chest pocket. Clark called for him as he rushed into the bathroom to find his duster hanging on a hook on the wall.  


“Come on, it has to still be here, it has to be!” He said as he fumbled to get the pocket open. When his hand hit nothing but fabric he started frantically searching through the other pockets just in case. “No, no, no, no. It has to be here. It has to-”  


“Looking for this by chance?” Clark asked as he stood in the doorway of the bathroom, hands behind his back. MacCready jumped at his voice as he whipped around looking at Clark than to his hand. Clark held up his hand and MacCready felt relief wash over him, there in Clark’s hand was a little wooden soldier.  


“Yes!” MacCready said snatching it out of Clark's hand and holding it close to him.  


“I emptied all your pockets before handing your duster over to Codsworth, I figured you’d want everything back, and I didn’t want him mistaking anything and throwing something away by accident.” Clark said with a smile “I have a box with all your other things and ammo in my room.”  


MacCready just gripped the toy soldier tighter, the idea that it might have been thrown away both terrified him and upset him. “Uh, thanks, this is kinda important so I’m just glad it’s safe,” MacCready said looking down at the soldier.  


“Oh and one more thing,” Clark said making MacCready look up. “Wouldn’t want to ruin the matching set would we?” and then Clark revealed the other hand from behind his back and placed MacCready’s hat onto his head pressing it down and ruffling it against his head.  


“I thought I had lost it.” MacCready laughed as he righted the hat grinning.  


“Yeah well you almost did, but I figured if I left it behind you’d be pissed at me.”  


“Well it is a nice hat…” MacCready said with a smirk.  


“Yeah I guess, come on, let’s go eat otherwise Codsworth might get offended.” And then Clark was gone, back down the hallway.  


MacCready just stood there in the bathroom for a moment, looking down at the little soldier in his hands. He rubbed his thumb across the smoothed down wood, the skin catching in a few spots where the green paint was starting to chip. He shook his head and then carefully placed the toy soldier back into its usual pocket of his duster before following after Clark. Food sounded pretty good.

The next morning found them leaving Sanctuary and back on the road, Clark had shaken him awake that morning and it had startled MacCready to find the man looming over him, a new pair of road goggles and his signature bandana back in place as he tried to scramble away almost falling off the couch. They moved at a slow pace Clark making them stop every few hours to rest and MacCready knew it was for his benefit. He didn’t want to complain that he was getting tired but being bedridden for over a week and almost dying apparently left you with wobbly legs and the need to stop and catch your breath more frequently. He was thankful that Clark seemed to just know when his legs grew sore and they threatened to buckle under his own weight, or when he had to fight to take more air into his lungs. Clark would look around, and if he deemed it safe to stop would make up some excuse, “Can we stop for a minute, I just need to get this rock out of my boot.” Or “One sec, I’m thirsty I think we can refill our canteens in that stream over there.” Even if he hadn’t taken a swig from the canteen on his hip since the last time they stopped for water.  


They were stopped once again because Clark had deemed that it was lunch time and Clark was crouched over a small fire keeping an eye on the squirrel meat they had skewered on some sticks so it wouldn’t burn. MacCready sat and watched the reflection of the fire in the lens of Clark’s goggles.  


“You can ask if you want.” Clark said head turned in a way MacCready knew the man was looking directly at him.  


“Ask what Boss?” MacCready said tilting his head to the side, he wasn’t sure where Clark was going with this.  


“Why I wear them.” He said pointing to his face. “I’ve caught you staring more since we left Sanctuary you know.” MacCready could hear the smirk in his voice, it made him flustered. Had he been staring?  


“I mean I figured it was because you didn’t want anyone knowing who you were, kinda tied in with my hunch about you being ex-Brotherhood, but I guess that theory’s been debunked.” He said fiddling with his rifle in his lap. “I mean it’s none of my business if you wanna hind your face.”  


Clark shifted, his knee bouncing up and down as if he was contemplating his next words. “It’s the, uh, it’s the scars,” Clark said turning his head away from MacCready. “It’s dumb I know but I don’t like the scars...” Clark said with a shrug as if to play off his insecurities.  


“Everyone’s got scars, Boss.” MacCready said his head tilted in confusion. Everyone had scars, if someone didn’t, most people would see them as weak, someone who didn’t know how to handle themselves. The more scars someone had that just means they knew how to survive.  


“I know, and I’ve got my own from before the war but uh, well, I could always hide those back then. I know its different know, there something to be worn with pride like ‘I got into a fight and won’ or ‘The Commonwealth tried to kill me but I survived’ but back before the war it wasn’t like that.” Clark sighed. “If you had scars people use to whisper about you like you weren’t there. People would just make assumptions about you, even if they didn’t know shit about what you had been through or what you had struggled with. Most people were shamed into hiding their scars and I know that’s changed over the last two hundred years but for me, it was only several months ago.”  


That made MacCready pause, that’s right it might have been years but for Clark, it’s only been what almost six months since he woke up to a completely different world. Yeah he could see how that could be a bit of a culture shock to him.  


“You seemed fine back at Sanctuary though” MacCready prodded, curious.  


“I’ve known those people since I woke up after I left the vault I stayed in Sanctuary for about a week, it was just Codsworth and me, he tried to catch me up on a lot of things but he hadn’t strayed too far from home. He said I should try Concord, that there were people there who might help me so that’s where I went, where I found most of those settlers. Where I, uh, got these.” Clark said motioning to his face again.  
“So those were after you woke up?” MacCready said trying to encourage Clark to keep going.  


“Yeah, I strolled into Concord, everything had changed so much, it was like a whole new town, it had seemed like only yesterday I had stopped to get a coffee at the little corner café there but now it’s just a collapsed building. There was a firefight going on in the street, a bunch of raiders had a group of settlers holed up in the Museum of Freedom. I honestly didn’t even think twice about it, I saw a bunch of civilians in trouble and just acted. I shot down every single of those raiders with my 10 millimeter. There was a man, Preston Garvey, threw a laser musket down from the top balcony and begged me to help them.”  


“Wasn’t your fight Boss, yet you still went in didn’t you.” MacCready asked knowing full well that’s what Clark did without him needing to even say anything.  


“I couldn’t just walk away ‘Cready, they needed help and if I didn’t help them then who would?” Clark said. MacCready just rolled his eyes, typical Clark, how many people had they stopped and helped in the first few weeks traveling together, MacCready had lost count. “So I picked up the musket and I cleared the museum out. I made my way up and finally came to the room where they were all holed up. Sturges, the guy who came to play cards with us that one night. You remember?”  


MacCready nodded, he was a decent enough guy, a little too happy for MacCready’s tastes but he was a fun enough guy to hang around.  


“Sturges said there was a suit of power armour up on the roof in a crashed vertibird, along with a still functioning minigun. So the plan was to get in the power armour, rip the minigun off vertibird and use it to clear out the remaining raiders in the city. Easy enough, and everything was going pretty smoothly until I stupidly jumped down from the roof to pick off the last few raiders who were trying to make a break for it. All the shooting and screaming woke one pissed off Deathclaw, it crawled out of a sewer grate and just starting tearing everything apart.”  


“I’d never seen a Deathclaw before, I honestly thought it was some sort of monster straight from a horror film, reminded me this really old film, some science fiction flick, to be honest.” Clark continued as he rotated their lunch on the fire. “I just fired as many bullets into the damned thing as I could but it just kept charging towards me. I could hear Preston and Sturges screaming for me to run but one of the legs on the power suit was pretty rusted from being exposed to the elements for so long. I just couldn’t move fast enough so I just stood there and kept firing.”  


“Wait so let me get this straight, you basically took out an entire city of raiders, and then a Deathclaw, by yourself.”  


“Well…” Clark said rubbing the back of his head.  


“Clark you’re crazy you know that?” MacCready looked at him like he had grown a second head.  


“To be fair the Deathclaw almost won that fight” Clark muttered as he poked at the fire. “I stood my ground but that was probably one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done. The minigun eventually overheated and I was helpless as it closed the distance between us. This thing was fucking pissed, it grabbed me and just lifted me off the ground like I was nothing. Slam dunked me back to earth and then just started tearing into the power armour. It got its claws under my helmet and tore it clean off almost taking my face with it.”  


“Dam- uh, dang, that must have been pretty scary.” MacCready said with wide eyes.  


“No kidding, I have Preston to thank though because he managed to hit the mean bastard in the head causing it to ignore me just long enough that I could unload my 10 millimeter into the creatures soft under belly and I guess it had enough bullets already in it to drop it.” Clark said as he handed MacCready a stick with roasted squirrel meat.  


“Preston and a couple others spent almost an hour getting me out of the mangled up power armour, I don’t remember much, just flashes of moments but they managed to get me out eventually and patch me up a bit, but I needed a doctor and the only one they knew of was in Diamond City so off I went, Preston insisted he come with me to make sure I didn’t bleed out on the road, had a nasty tear through my left collarbone too, but we eventually made it there by some miracle. I can only imagine the sight, some vault dweller with blood streaming down their face and their vault suit. Preston took me to see Doc Crocker but apparently he was in some consultation with a patient and Dr. Sun wasn’t around. Preston just started screaming for help, for someone to get a doctor and all of a sudden the biggest man I’d seen since my military days came forward and said he could help. Two wild guesses on who that’d be.” Clark said and MacCready could tell he was smiling by the way his voice lightened.  


“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say, Murphy.” MacCready said around a mouthful of squirrel meat.  


“Ding ding, came walking up telling Preston to ‘Stop yar yammerin’ and let me look at the lad’” Clark giving his best Murphy impression, making MacCready chuckle. “He patched me up as best he could but I had nothing in the ways of caps then, so I couldn’t afford the stimpak’s needed to stop my face from scaring up the way it did…” Clark quieted after that.  


MacCready watched him for a moment before piping up “Well I don’t mind.” He said quietly causing Clark to look up at him. “The scars I mean, they uh, make you look pretty tough.” He quickly looked away finding the fire suddenly far more interesting than Clark.  


Clark just titled his head in a way that MacCready was certain meant he was smirking. They ate in a comfortable silence until Clark cleared his throat and asked “Hey Cready, can I ask ya something?”  


“Sure Boss.” MacCready said taking another bite out of his lunch.  


“Who’s Duncan?”  


MacCready’s eyes shot wide as his breathe caught in his throat causing him to all but chock on the squirrel meat he had just taken a chunk out of. He coughed loudly as he slammed his fist against his chest to dislodge his lunch, Clark started to rise from his seat but MacCready waved him off as he managed to suck in a breath.  


“H-how did you…” He asked mind racing a million miles a second on how Clark could possibly have found out about Duncan. The amount of people who knew about Duncan in the Commonwealth he could count on one hand. So how had Clark found out?  


“When you were uh, fighting off the fever you called out for a Duncan a couple times.” Clark explained. “You didn’t really say much while you were out of it but you did ask for Duncan.”  


Clark paused waiting for an answer, but MacCready wasn’t sure how to answer. Clark had shared a lot of his past with him, had been straight with him. Telling him about Duncan would make them even, but Clark had his own son to look for, had his own problems to worry about he didn’t need more added to his plate because MacCready was inadequate as a father. Besides, how do you tell someone your son is sick and every doctor you’ve seen tells you your son is dying? MacCready was afraid to even say it out loud as if speaking about it would confirm what the doctors in the Capital had told him.  


“Look, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to” came Clark’s voice snapping him from his mild panic induced thoughts.  


“I-I, It’s just-” MacCready tried but the words just wouldn’t come out. If he continued traveling with Clark he knew he would have to tell him eventually. Clark deserved to know the truth, but MacCready just closed his mouth and shook his head as he looked down.  


“I didn’t mean to pry ‘Cready, I’m sorry man, look forget I asked okay?” Clark said quickly sensing his sniper's distress. “I get that some things can be too painful to talk about, no pressure okay, but when or if you decide you wanna talk to be about it you can, you know that right?”  


The way Clark spoke him so calmly, his voice taking on a soft tone just made MacCready’s throat tighten, guilt over keeping quiet made its way into his chest like a creeping vine.  


MacCready swallowed trying to get the lump in his throat to go away. “Duncan is…”  


_Say it._  


“Duncan is my…”  


_Say it._  


“Duncan is… someone special to me…” he opted.  


_Coward._ The voice in his head sounding suspiciously like Lucy from his dream a few days ago.  


He watched Clark stiffen slightly from across the fire. Had he said the wrong thing?  


“I appreciate everything you do for me Clark, I do, but I don’t think I’m ready to open that box just yet…” MacCready muttered pulling his hat down to cover his eyes. He was afraid Clark would see the guilt and shame in them.  


“It’s okay, I get it. Really, I do.” Clark said.  


They remained in silence while they both finished their meals and packed up. Neither men spoke much for the rest of the day. MacCready walked behind Clark as they continued to travel. He’d have to tell him about Duncan eventually, especially if he wanted his help in looking for a cure. MacCready gripped his rifle tightly, he was done being a coward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to think that things we deem taboo topics of conversation and such would drastically change in the event of a nuclear fallout. One such thing being scars, I know it's impolite to ask someone about their scars or to pry into how they got them, and people who suffered extreme facial scaring even today are sometimes shunned in social settings, but I think that those views would change and scars would become more like bragging rights or badges of honor?? If that makes sense to anyone???
> 
> Also I've gotten to talk to some of my readers over on Tumblr and I'm so happy you guys like my boy Clark??? I get to share all these fun little facts about him that I don't think will ever make it into the fics which are really nice. I also put this on my Tumblr but I'll put it here as well, but if you have any prompts, quests you'd like to see Clark and Cready take on and their reactions to them, or even AU prompts/ideas, I'd honestly love to hear them! Please feel free to ask any other questions, I try to answer everything as best as I can!
> 
> Thank you to all those who have taken the time out of their day to read, comment, kudos and bookmark, serious thank you! You brighten my day a little bit <3

**Author's Note:**

> Here's what Jamison looks like as well for anyone curious. 
> 
> Here are a few additions to the fic as well
> 
> Jamison Clark:  
> https://78.media.tumblr.com/e133ee13c2b90cf8a47b042162d585fc/tumblr_pe4rzffkkC1qg39xm_540.jpg
> 
> Clark and 'Cready Playlist (Always Changing)  
> https://open.spotify.com/user/shewhoiswolf/playlist/1ZJJxxFUHUCPBL6oWHR0up?si=E9Y8aRAuQtaOi8FB-jdOvQ
> 
> If you were curious about The Clinic, I did actually build it, it's based off this building in Clark's game file.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e8-DgaqKOeY&t=60s
> 
> You can also find me at;  
> SheWhoIsWolf.Tumblr.Com if you want to chat, I'm shy but I'll promise to make an effort!


End file.
